


Dead by Daylight - Killer X Killer Oneshots -

by 0ThatFanGirl0



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Big Burly Murder Man, Book - Freeform, Bottom Michael Myers, Daddy Trappy, Death is Not an Escape, Evan Snacmillan, Evan needs ass insurance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Hurt and comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I can smell it, I don’t ship the Trapper and the Pig, I promise, Inappropriate use of The Doctors weapon, Inappropriate use of The Wraiths weapon, I’m not good at tags, Lemons, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Mostly Smut, NSFW, No one escapes drama, Non-Consensual Spanking, One Shot, Oops, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Requests, Sadistic Evan MacMilian, Sexual Content, Smut, Spanking, Spicy zesty lemon scented, Strong sexual content, Thanks alot Herman Carter, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Doctor is fucked up, The Entity is Letting This Happen, There’s a barbecue involved, This is on wattpad, Traptor, Typical Evan Macmillan, Typical Herman Carter, and, hurt and angst, hurt/angst, lemon fic, lemons everywhere, more tags will be added, no kinks or fetishes, oneshots, or death, please, request, slight dubious consent, sorry - Freeform, taking requests, thank you, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2019-12-07 13:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 31,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0ThatFanGirl0/pseuds/0ThatFanGirl0
Summary: A oneshot book featuring your favorite (or least favorite) killers from Dead by Daylight!“You’ve activated my one-shot trap card!”“Well I counter that with a better one! Spawning next to your totems and clearing out all five!”“... Shit!”





	1. A Checkup and a Cure - Doctor X Trapper -

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Request in the comments and enjoy reading this trash.
> 
> You may request anything.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan’s pain can only be taken cared of with one cure...

"Herman! Get over here!"

 

That madman of a doctor strolls right on over to the source of obvious shouting, the stick held down by his side, the current coursing through his limbs and fingers calm and cool. The headgear still set in place, the areas of metal surrounding his mouth is free, however, he's rarely seen without the headgear.

 

"What is it? Oh!"

 

Catching his balance, the male straightens his back, gripping his weapon in a firm grasp, his knuckles turning white within nanoseconds.

 

"I need help here, Carter."

 

The disdain falling from Evan's lips irritates the other, a hiss soon follows.

 

"Getting caught in your own bear trap is embarrassing, but having to summon me for medical assistance is embarrassing enough. Let me see the damages, Evan."

 

"You're pulling too hard! My leg will be broken by the time you get me out of here, Doc!"

 

"Shut your mouth when the doctor is working!"

 

"More like when the doctor is _hurting_!"

 

"Keep your mask on! I almost got it!"

 

After a few painful tugs through flesh and tendon, and the trap springs back to its original position. Herman furiously rubs his hands together, the current dances between each finger downward to his wrists and back up again. Bringing both hands near Evan's injury, he makes contact, a loud, hoarse scream rips throughout the entire area. A good amount of crows take leave at the sudden outburst, the area surrounding the forest dark and ominous.

 

"What the hell did you do that for?!"

 

Herman can clearly see the thin sheet of sweat covering Evan's neck, the mask does little to hide that part of him.

 

His face turns crimson immediately.

 

"I needed to numb your pain."

 

"I need to get away from you!"

 

"Nonsense. You need treatment, Evan."

 

 _One_ _hour_ _later..._

 

The constant beeping of the machine is annoying, as is the occasional maniacal laughter that rips from Herman's throat every so often. Evan's foot is firmly secured within a restraint, propped up from a thick, metal wire that hangs above the restraint. Worry crosses his features as soon as he watches the Doctor turn around, a syringe held within his hand, clear liquid fills the thing as he inches forward. It's as if he's looking forward to this, which doesn't surprise Evan. Out of all of the other killers that reside here against their will in the Entity's realm, it's Herman "The Doctor" Carter you don't want to cross paths with.

 

"If you keep struggling then this will take longer to heal. The procedure has just begun..."

 

Thudding footfalls cross over to the man currently bound to the examination table, the stick lies atop a table, sparks of electric current surge every so often in a blend of bright blue monstrosity. The field of static surrounds Evan, its constant noise meant to break concentration and focus. Soon enough, a hand rests over Evan's injury, the fingers latch around the exposed tendon and bone, giving it an uncomfortable squeeze. Evan winces and gives a huff.

 

"Is this part of the treatment?"

 

Herman doesn't say anything, the syringe is held in a tight grip as he lets go and moves over to Evan's side.

 

He has no time to react as the needle is placed within a suitable vein, causing the other to immediately pass out.

 

An hour later...

 

The wound is properly dressed, there is not a single drop of blood, and Herman's gloved hands are covered in it.

 

With a giggle, he walks over to a trash bin and deposits the gory gloves in the thing.

 

"The patient is waking..."

 

It's true, Evan's eyes flutter open, he's still restrained as he gradually wakes from whatever the Doctor gave to him.

 

As if understanding his confusion, Herman speaks up.

 

"It was a sedative, something to help ease the pain."

 

Instead of arguing back, Evan glances downward towards his now completely healed leg.

 

"Thank you. I know I've spent this entire time arguing with you, but I wouldn't be healed without your help. Thank you, Herman."

 

A second passes, Evan turns his head away in embarrassment, his cheeks flare crimson and Herman is quick to take notice.

 

"I'm an expert in the anatomy of the body and from here I can clearly see that you're flushed. Is this appreciation I detect? By the way, you're welcome."

 

"Yes, it was."

 

At last, Evan is released from the restraints, sitting up on the table and sighing, standing to his feet.

 

"Will that be all, Doctor? Am I free to go?"

 

"That'll be all. You're not free to go just yet."

 

A hand clasps around Evan's bicep, fingers digging into the flesh as Herman forcefully pushes Evan to the side so as to be face to face.

 

Before Evan can do anything else he's caught off guard. By the hands resting on his shoulders, the invasion of personal space, and the sensation of lips pressed against his own. His eyes widen in shock but he is glued to the cold, dirty floor.

 

It only lasts for what feels like three seconds, and as soon as they break apart, Herman lets out another of his trademark giggles.

 

"You'll want to schedule your next appointment soon, Evan."

 

Looking back over his shoulder as he heads on out of the room, Evan notices the ever reddening blush that dominates Herman's features. Another giggle, a wave, and the feeling of eyes burning holes through his back. The Trapper offers a smile but not to the Doctor, his footsteps recede as the halls of Léry's surround him.

 

' _I'll_ _have_ _to_ _take_ _that_ _appointment_ _into_ _consideration_ , _Doctor_ _Carter.'_


	2. A Huntress’ Calling - Huntress X Nurse -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sally gets lost and only Anna can help her find her way out... with just a little help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy it!

The sweet scent of raindrops washes over the Huntress' nose, the soft pitter-patter of the rain gives her a sense of calm as she sits down in front of the welcoming fire. 

 

"Ahhh!"

 

The hoarse, loud shriek causes the seasoned hunter to drop her teacup, remnant shards of both teacup and saucer now scattered across the dirty wooden floor.

 

Her head whips around towards the source of such a cry, the same terrible cry clashes against her ears, wondering who could be trespassing her domain at this time. Letting out a sigh, Anna is quick to grab her mask and a lone hatchet sitting atop of her fireplace- as if waiting to be picked up and used. If it had a voice, surely it would be crying with joy. Venturing out of her cottage and glancing about, she lets out a huff, not wanting to leave her home of comfort to see who is here. Ignoring the soft breeze of the winds, thankful that the veil offers her hair some sort of protection, she makes the trek towards the cries of pain.

 

Is it a creature caught in a trap?

 

Usually, another seasoned hunter: The Trapper- has offered a scarce few of bear traps and setting tools. Catching other survivors in case they came too close to her home for comfort, hoping that the traps would force them to back off. So far, no one had been caught, either they were smart enough to disarm the traps or none had even came close to the cottage.

 

As she nears the source of soft wheezing, her eyes widen, rounding the corner with a hatchet raised high above her head. Ready to strike and letting out a soft growl, she is stopped within her tracks at the sight before her.

 

The person that seems to have been caught raises her interest: Sally Smithson.

 

The struggling of breathing mixed in with harsh labored wheezing startles her, lowering her weapon and kneeling down to the Nurse' level. The trap is clamped tightly around her left ankle, a pool of blood gathered around and below the injury, the strong and sickening stench catching Anna's attention. She must've blinked right into it, at least she thinks she did. Judging by her efforts to sit up and claw at the trap, Sally's cheeks are covered in a thin sheet of tears. Still falling downward, it averts Anna's attention, causing her heart to ache for a brief few seconds.

 

Leaning closer to assess the injury, Anna is gentle in grabbing ahold of each side of the trap. Quick to pull the jaws apart and reset the trap, she raises a hand to Sally, silently urging her to stop moving. It works, Sally giving a desperate nod and shuddering breath, her hands completely covered in her own blood. From what she can see, Sally's ankle is limp, assuming that even if she tried to stand on her own two feet, all it would do is cause the woman to fall back down. The pale skin indented with the teeth of the trap, completely dug in and leaving behind a still oozing trial of dark blood.

 

Anna sets her weapon down in the mud beside her.

 

With both knees settled into the mud, Anna is gentle and careful to scoop Sally into her arms, wobbling to stand back up and hastily making it back to her cottage. Carrying the woman bridal style, Sally is too weak to even wrap her arms around Anna's shoulders, her inhaling sharp and heavy as Anna takes the first step back indoors. There's no way to tell if she is passing out from the blood loss, too respectful to simply remove the wrapping covering her eyes. The Entity leaves its playthings to its own devices if they hurt themselves or each other, forcing either The Doctor or The Nurse to offer what few medical procedures they still remember. Which leaves only a tiny few of those procedures due to the fragmented and scattered memories from the two killers.

 

Making her way upstairs to the second floor and into a separate room, she kicks the door open, it protests in a threatening creak of wood as it smacks against the wall. Moving to her knees, Anna is gentle to set Sally in the provided tub, giving a ruffle of her hair before sitting down next to the tub and leaning over. Sally's head lolls to the side, her lips forming in a silent show of words, of course, no sound leaves those lips. For a moment, Anna feels a pang of sorrow deep within her chest, a single tear rolls down her cheek but she doesn't dare let out a sound akin to crying. Her attention averts back to Sally's ankle, blood beginning to settle on the cold surface of the tub as Sally lies still.

 

A med-kit. Anna remembers that a survivor who had the unfortunate fate of not being saved from a hook had left a med-kit behind. Scrambling to her feet, she is quick to leave Sally behind in search of the thing, peeking around corners of her cottage until she spots a small red tin box right outside her home- near the large pile of logs. Bending down and grabbing ahold of it, she practically runs back indoors and up to the bathroom. The sight of Sally laying still alarms her, until the woman moves her head once more, sounds of wheezing coupled with pained huffs eases her a little. With the med-kit held tightly within her hand, Anna takes her place by Sally's side and leans over the tub, setting the box on the floor beside her.

 

The contents of the med-kit are just enough- minus the small amount of rubbing alcohol, the bottle close to empty as Anna eyes over the contents. Carefully taking out gel dressings, the rubbing alcohol, gauze, and stitching and thread- she sets each thing aside and closes the thing with sigh. This is going to cause more then enough pain- perhaps more then Sally can handle, that and the sounds of pain she is already letting flow past her lips. Bringing a finger to her chin, she gives it a few taps and grabs the bottle of rubbing alcohol, carefully unscrewing the cap and taking Sally's leg in one hand. Her thick fingers grasping the skin and gently lifting it up so that it's propped up over the edge of the tub.

 

A loud gasp causes Anna to release her hold on Sally's ankle, it hits the tub with a thud and she watches with regret as Sally rears her head back, letting out a harsh, painful screech. The bottle falls to the floor, Anna lets out a soft gasp. That pang in her chest returns, swelling with intensity, she is quick to repeat her steps, lifting the ankle and setting it over the edge of the tub. Picking up the bottle and raising it over the wound, Anna pours a little, the blood washing away as the foam does its work. Forced to endure Sally's whines and wheezing, Anna winces, using up the last bit of the alcohol as she turns the ankle side to side.

 

The floor is drenched in a small pool of blood, the stench carrying its way to Anna's nose, the foam finishes up the last of its work. Next, Anna grabs the stitching and thread- thankful from what Sally has taught her, even if it was just a few basics for wounds. With a steady hand holding the needle, Anna does her best to stitch the wound. Careful not to tug too tightly as she eventually nears the end, grabbing the slack of thread and leaning close to bite down. Without medical scissors, she'll have to use her teeth, biting down hard and pulling.

 

Thankfully, the thread gives and the rest falls to the floor. Placing the rest of the thread and needle back in the box, Anna takes the gel dressings next, doing her best to tear close to the right amount for the wound. Peeling it apart, she leans back over the tub and cups the ankle in a hand, putting the dressing over one side of the wound. Pulling a part of the dressing again, she carefully moves closer this time around, and places it along the other side. A small roll of tape in the box catches her eye, clutching it and pulling it apart, she tears off a piece and sets it along the dressing.

 

Doing the same for the other side twice- one side covering each corner of the dressing. Sitting back on her knees, a smile crosses her features, pulling at her lips as she basks in the pride of her work. At least Sally has calmed down, from what she can see, her pale face is covered in sweat, hair tousled and unkempt, the dress is ruffled slightly. One shoulder is bare due to the dress hanging off to one side, must've happened when she fell. The usual breathing and wheezing that could only belong to the Nurse returns, her head resting against the back of the tub, Anna replaces everything back in the med-kit, tossing the trash into a trash receptacle and stands back on her feet. With gracefulness, she bends downward to carry Sally bridal style downstairs, with hope that she'll be better soon. Once she descends down the stairs and crosses over to her chair in front of the fire place, she sets Sally down, removing her own mask and sighing. The rain continues to fall, she'll go to retrieve her weapon later, Sally stirs. Her head is resting against the back of the chair as she struggles to sit up, raising a hand to her shoulder and pulling the dress over it. Her legs dangle over the chair, she seems to be doing better already. This brings another smile, Anna's face is practically beaming with hope at her friends recovery.

_'Maybe she'll want to stay for some tea?'_


	3. Method of Procedure - Doctor X Huntress -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herman Carter visits Anna... with a not-so-surprising result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’d like to apologize in advance if this seems poor and crappy. I did my best to write this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Wandering into another killers domain was dangerous all on its own, let alone _accidentally_ wandering into one. This was no accident, no. Herman glanced around, rain drops practically hitting him in the head, splashing against his face. He'll have to clean the apparatus later, a plan had been set in motion and the killer here has no idea what they were going to have to deal with. Footfalls make their way across patches of grass, nearly causing Herman to slip and fall on his back. With a heavy breath, he tightens the grip on his weapon and ventures on. The fog that had surrounded him since he got here finally dissipates, allowing him to see where he's at. 

 

It's a small cottage, the warm orange glow of light calls to him like a moth to light, the rain continues to fall, he only makes it to a few feet before the door.

 

Anna lets out a small growl, huffing as she grabs ahold of a hatchet and marches on over to her door, a tight grip on the weapon, lifting it and preparing to throw it at whoever dared to show themselves here. Before she can do that though, a hand clamps down on the side of one of the logs leading into the house. Thick, electrifying fingers, wrap themselves further around the log. Herman pushes his way through her home, towering above her and looking slightly downward. Anna, who wasn't expecting someone else- let alone another killer lets out another huff and turns her back to him, lowering the hatchet and making her way over towards a chair.

 

Two chairs sat comfortably in front of a warm fire, black smoke swirling about as a few embers rise up within the air. The atmosphere has a pine-woodsy stench and Herman takes in a deep breath. Of course, he says nothing- the apparatus preventing him from doing so. Laying his weapon down beside the wide open front door, following in the Huntress' footsteps, and eventually taking a seat within a chair.

 

Sinking into the other, Anna places a hand over her chin, a finger tapping away at the skin as she ponders what to do. Suddenly, she looks up, watching in both horror and awe as Herman carefully removes his apparatus. The flaccid eyelids drop down over his eyes, it makes her cover a hand over her mouth and fight the urge to hurl. His skin is completely scarred and singed, probably due to his power, no doubt. Was it The Entity's doing or Herman's? She has no way of knowing because once he finally opens his eyes, she gasps.

 

Both eyes look to be a sick shade of red, the cheeks below showing heavy signs of scarring, his lips thin, forming a straight line as he just stares at her. It's terrifying, even she doesn't look him in the eyes, what had been a sane man, leaves nothing but insanity behind. A sharp smile crosses his features, it took a moment for him to remove the headgear, and now it sits within his lap. The thing falls to his feet. That unsettling smile doesn't waver, even as he stands tall to his feet and crosses over to her. Wires, electricity, the current of his power flows through the wiring within his arms, all part of the Entity's 'gift'.

 

A hand finds its way to her cheek, forcing her to tilt her head up to look at him. Growling, Anna jerks back out of his grasp, Herman says nothing and steps out of reach. A short giggle fills the small area, the Doctor's shoulders rise up and down in time with his giggle as he rears his head back. A louder growl, Anna stands up, raising a hand and bringing it down over Herman's cheek. The sting spreads across her palm and fingers as she gasps and realizes what she's done. Stumbling back into his chair, he's lost his footing and falls backwards on the floor.

 

Making haste, Anna grabs ahold of the Doctor's arm, pulling him forward but it isn't enough to bring him back on his feet. His smile fades into a frown, eyes darting back and forth to nothing, reaching a hand out, he clutches her shirt and pulls. The dirty fabric easily tears away, revealing her stomach and surprising Anna, her eyes widen as she mutters something in a language he has no way of knowing. Immediately, she hollers and pushes him back, her hands making contact with muscle and wires as Herman stands his ground. Grabbing ahold of her shirt again, he tears a piece of fabric covering her shoulder, nothing but dirt covering the skin.

 

Anna- who gasps, raises the hatchet and brings it down over his hand, a deep slash, leaving a trail of dark crimson behind. With a yell, he retaliates, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling, tearing a clump away as she screams out. She curses in that language again, seeing that the hair that rested upon her head is now clasped tightly around Herman's hand. Dropping her weapon all together, she steps back, her eyes wandering to his face and her hair every so often as Herman giggles once again. Letting go, the hair gently falls to the floor, Herman stomps on it and looks back at her, a smile reappears before he grabs her arm and brings her close.

 

Without her mask, her features twist to confusion, Herman leans in closer, placing a quick kiss to her cheek. Anna's brows furrow, her hair swaying slightly behind her as she assimilates his actions. Placing a hand within his own, his grip tight as she leads him up the stairs. Their footsteps collide with wood, creaking and groaning beneath them as they ascend towards the top, she lets go and looks over her shoulder, he's just standing there. With a nod, Anna turns back around and waves a hand over her shoulder, a gesture to let him know to follow her.

 

As he does so, he cautiously falls in line behind her, his eyes travel towards her inner thighs. They've entered a whole other room, this one with a bed that seemed to look as it was made of the very same wood downstairs. A small bedside table sits against both wall and bed, a large wardrobe, the pelt of some bear rests along the floor, the bed above it. With an angry yell- something that crosses between a holler and harsh breathing, Herman budges her a little. Taking a seat on the bed, Anna looks at him, her eyes reveal nothing at the least.

 

The bed is covered with a cherry-red duvet, matching pillowcases as well; Herman takes his place beside her and for the second time, Anna looks into his eyes. Taking the time to notice all of his features, she can see that without the apparatus, he doesn't quite look like a monstrosity. True, the wires and constant flow of electricity would terrify anyone who had never encountered him. Placing one arm directly over his spine, Anna hums softly- that lullaby of hers that works against those survivors so well. With a tilt of his head, Doctor Carter brings a hand to her cheek, knuckles stroking along her jawline and down towards her chin.

 

Her fingers rub small circles against his vertebrae, moving her hand to his shoulder and leaning in for a proper kiss. At first, it catches him off guard- his knuckles still trailing along her skin as her lips press against his own. His are dry and chapped but it doesn't discourage her from deepening the kiss. Both arms envelope themselves around her back, lifting her up and setting her down in his lap, a gasp is heard, he closes his eyes. She fights the urge to vomit- the ugly sight of how unnatural the eyelids droop over skin is almost much.

 

In an instant, he's opened his eyes. Electricity dances within his left palm, his fingers find their way within her dark locks, sending small, short shocks. Her strands float within the air, causing her to let out a small chuckle, the other hand rests upon her clothed breast. Strong fingers knead the flesh, swiping over her nipple every once in a while. Straightening her posture, Anna sighs and quickly moves away from him, he gives her a confused look.

 

Hands now clasped within his lap, she disrobes before him, her clothes falling to the floor with a soft thud, hearing another giggle. Cheeks flushed red and a hand covering his mouth, he pushes himself off the bed and follows in her footsteps, eventually leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. Curiosity had killed the cat and if he wanted to, he could do the same, hands travel all along her every curve. His touch is a cross between gentle and rough, nails dig into skin as he grasps her breast in a hand once again. Pressing her body against him, warmth pools between her legs, she can feel his arousal as well, a distinct hardness poking her in the stomach.

 

In one fluid motion, he lifts oneleg around her waist, entering her without hesitation, her face contorts to one of pain with a scream that follows. Rearing his head back, he laughs, running an electrified hand across her head, Herman sends an intense shock to her scalp. Another scream rips through her throat, his pace is brutal and quick, it feels as though he's tearing her apart. With a hand resting over the small of his back, she moves forward, urging him to sit back down. Getting the memo, he obliges and halts his movements, legs make contact with the bed and he takes a seat. Once settled, Anna wraps both legs around his waist, she takes notice of the grotesque wiring, how it digs deep into his skin.

 

As if it were a part of him, his skin everywhere is scarred beyond measure, an impressive length inside her, his smile unwavering as he lifts his hips up into her. With her hands resting against his shoulders, she picks up the pace and lets out a sharp exhale, their breathing fills the room. Stilling his movements, he groans, placing a kiss against her neck, hands find themselves in her hair. She gasps, her muscles clamping down on him as she feels his essence fill her completely. Muttering something in that language again, Anna lifts up and off of him after what seemed like forever. Sweat glistens her body as she marches over towards the wardrobe, her back turned to him, her fingers fumbling as she redresses.

 

With a heavy sigh, Herman stands on his feet, dressing into his attire and turning to face her, his footfalls echo across the floor. Her heart pounds within her ears, blood flowing to them within seconds, she turns to face the male to see that he's brought one hand up. Charged with electricity, his eyes dart back and forth from her face to her eyes, it's a shame it has to end this way. Without a word, he grabs her by the throat and sends a powerful shock throughout her entire frame. Hands clasped around his tight hold, desperately trying to get him to let go but all that comes out are harsh intakes of breath. Fingernails dig deeply into his flesh, leaving small droplets of blood within their wake, it unfortunately isn’t enough. 

 

She falls limp to the floor after a few minutes with a heavy thud, he rubs both hands together, getting on his knees to shock her once again, this time his hands are against the sides of her head. Once he knows that she's no more, he turns her over to place one last kiss, one upon her lips. He leaves her behind, knowing full well that she'll return soon.

 

 _Enduring_ _the_ _Entity's_ _punishment_ _is_ _something_ _he'll_ _have_ _to_ _get_ _used_ _to._


	4. Hunted by the Hunter - Wraith X Huntress -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna runs into The Wraith, with disastrous and fluffy results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy reading this chapter. Don’t forget to leave requests! :3

This place was entirely confusing to her, she had no way of knowing where the last survivor was. All she knew was that this place was _definitely_ a place she didn't belong to. With the myriad of monitors, the maze of hallways, the endless vaulting through windows, and the tight spaces around her made her grimace. Used to this by now, Anna trudged on, looking around corners, her weapon of choice held firmly within a tight grasp. She can clearly hear footsteps near her so she rounds a corner and prepares to hit her next victim, only to find no one there. 

 

Is this place affecting her ability to hunt for the Entity? Yes. Oh! Those damn survivors! Making her way down the hall, she is careful to listen out for the footsteps, a clattering is heard and she whips around, ready to hit whoever is behind her. Again, there's only disappointment because no one is there. Sighing, Anna continues to check behind every door and window, knowing that survivors like to hide just behind those areas. Unable to find anyone and focus, she slumps against a wall, dropping to her knees and setting the axe within her lap.

 

Closing her eyes for just a moment, Anna heard another sound- someone breathing, something falls to the floor near her, like an object hitting the floor. On alert, she stands to her feet and grips the weapon, glancing around for whoever is trying to mess with her. Barreling around the corner, the axe held close to her chest, Anna heard running footfalls, the sound seemed to be getting closer. As she makes it around yet another corner, she yells and something collides with her shoulder. Lodged deep into her skin, she yelps out once the things is unceremoniously removed, pieces of flesh and blood splatter to the floor.

 

The wall near her now covered in tiny specks of her blood, droplets and a trail ooze out of the deep wound. Dropping her weapon, she clutches a hand to the injury and lets out a couple of pained cries. A figure appears before her, seemingly out of nowhere, tall and lanky, it's someone she's seen plenty of times before: The Wraith. The Wailing Bell silent as he rematerializes. His expression blank as he throws his weapon to the floor, huffing and placing a hand over her uninjured shoulder. He brings his forehead to her own, lowering his head downward and making the slightest of contact.

 

Once he steps away, he frantically looks around, small intakes of breath can be heard, his lips part as if to speak. No word comes out and he brings a hand forward to gently trace over the injury. Anna- who doesn't appreciate his actions, yells out and shoves a hand at him. With the Wailing Bell now clasped at his side, he jumps at her attack, lowering his head and letting out a small trill that could be interpreted as sadness. True, he didn't mean to attack her, thinking that it was just another survivor headed this way.

 

Now as he turns his back to her, letting out another huff and series of trills, she herself looks down, a somewhat worried expression crossing her features. With a slight trembling hand, Anna is careful to reach out and place it over his shoulder blade, the bark-like skin cutting into her fingers as she mistakenly runs them along the small curve of bone. With a whimper, Anna pulls her hand back, examining the damage done as she brings it back to her wound. Minutes pass and he finally turns back around, head still lowered as he ponders what to do about her injury. Forcefully grabbing her hand, his 'skin' digs and drags across her much delicate skin as he attempts to run off with her.

 

Instead, Anna is planted firmly to the floor, shaking her head in absolute disbelief. Thinking that Sally would know what to do, he countlessly attempts to drag her out of this place but she makes it difficult by not complying. Letting out a sound akin to a roar, he turns his head to face her, lips formed into a snarl and teeth bared like a canine, he grabs her hand and tugs at her with all his might, he can feel her skin gradually bleeding as he does this. Stumbling forward in the slightest, Anna huffs, shaking her head 'No' as she tries to let go of his hand. Not wanting to let go, he desperately begins walking, her weight making it impossible for him to move her.

 

Feet drag along the dirty linoleum as short huffs fall from his lips. Eventually, Anna does comply with him, allowing him to drag her about Léry's Memorial Institute, no other sounds are heard. She wonders if the last survivor left long ago, wondering why he is here to begin with. This place is a complete maze because it takes them a long time to eventually find a spot to rest. Still holding her hand, he messes around with the filthy bandages wrapped around his forearms. Black, misty smoke and a series of deep growls surrounds them, they leave Léry's behind in a whoosh of thick smoke.

 

Spider-like limbs envelope around the two, their bodies float within a few feet above the floor. Once settled, they are both transported to another place, this one littered with crumbling walls, a tall building sits undisturbed in the center before them, their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. With her injury still bleeding, he once again, desperately gets her to follow him. With their weapons at their back, they practically run across the area towards the building. Screeching surrounds the area, a figure is seen in the far distance, he stops dead in tracks, causing Anna to bump right into his back.

 

Knowing that she is near brings the tiniest of smiles to his face, looking back towards Anna, he immediately lowers his head, offering a few short whimpers in a short apology. A nod from her reassures him and he is quick to turn back around. The figure is nowhere to be seen, until in a blink of an eye she appears, another blink and she is standing mere inches from his frame. Letting out a harsh gasp, the Nurse lowers her head and regains from her fatigue. Her weapon held limply by her side, she tilts her head at their intrusion, the dirty wrapping covering her eyes as her hair moves about in short waves as she moves her head back up.

 

Her usual breathing falls on their ears, greeting Philip with a soft sigh and a hand weakly placed upon his chest. Moving away, she looks over to Anna- who just stares at the other female and lets out small cries. Her shirt is now stained, causing it to uncomfortably stick to her skin, the blood still seeping through her open wound. A little unsettled by the close proximity of the Nurse, Anna fights the urge to back off and call this whole thing quits.

 

Sally who inches closer to feel around the wound, lets her fingers drift over the injury in a ghostly touch, blood covering her fingers. Despite her lack of sight, Sally continues to examine the wound and eventually backs away from the seasoned huntress. Her sense of smell still strong as ever, the familiar strong scent of iron fills Sally's nostrils as she turns her back towards the both of them and saunters in the direction towards the building. Both killers follow after her, their footsteps in close proximity to the Nurse, she blinks ahead of them, colliding with a wall. Running after her and leaving Anna behind for the moment, the Wraith catches an arm and helps her to stand back on her feet.

 

Sally places her hand over his head and gives a weak nod in response, eventually making her way into the building. As Philip retakes Anna's hand again, his eyes frantically glancing back and forth to her face and the wound, Sally ushers them into a room. There's hospital beds here, none of them are tidy, let alone have clean bedsheets, a small table littered with medical supplies sits on the other side of the room here. Both of them head over to a bed at random and take a seat, it takes Sally a while to get over to the far side of the room and bring the supplies over. It takes some help from Philip to eventually get the table to their bed, his hand clasped over Sally's as he gently pushes the small cart-like table towards the foot of the bed.

 

Once settled, she points a finger towards the bed, pointing it downward- a silent gesture to ask him to sit back down, which he complies. Anna scoots over towards the very edge of the bed, an arm draped over the icy cold railing as she watches Sally gather alcohol, gel dressings, and cloths that were of questionable cleanliness. Despite her dropping a few things and having to pick them back up a few times, Sally makes her way over to them and sets the things down unceremoniously in Anna's lap. Letting out a huff and crossing her arms over her chest, Anna gives in and wants this to just be over already. Philip wraps a hand around hers, his skin poking into her own as she lets out a soft whimper.

 

Blood washes down over her shoulder, Sally gripping the filthy fabric of Anna's shirt and pulling, it gives way with the slightest of pressure, tearing apart in a few shreds. Dropping bits of her shirt to the floor, Sally soon gets to work, her fingers fumble with the half empty bottle of rubbing alcohol. Moving close to nuzzle the crook of her neck, Philip tries to offer what little comfort he can as Anna screams out, tears gradually roll down her cheeks as the wound is wiped at. Finally, the bleeding has stopped and as the Nurse grabs for the already opened gel dressings, she drops the now empty bottle to the floor. It clatters to the floor with a thud and rolls underneath the bed, her fingers try to pull apart the paper to the dressing, groaning with difficulty.

 

Anna brings a hand to Sally's tapping two fingers against her skin and taking the few seconds to tear apart the paper. Philip breaks off contact, moving away and letting out a soft snarl. The paper falls to the floor, Sally runs her fingers over the wound, snatching a cloth from Anna's lap and weakly rubbing away at any remaining blood and alcohol. Letting the cloth fall free from her grasp, Sally does her best to place the wrapping over the injury, it's lopsided and too small of a wrapping. Anna bows her head in thanks and lets out a deep sigh, her shoulders rising up and down as she lets out a few relieved chuckles.

 

His grip on her hand tightens and Anna gives him a glare, her head snapping towards him as she pulls her hand away, letting out a yell. With a bloodied hand, the familiar scent wafts over Sally and she practically snatches up Anna's hand. Her fingers and palm trace over what cuts Philip's skin has made, Philip lowering his head in shame when Sally looks at him. A loud screech fills the room, Anna and Philip placing their hands over their ears as Sally frets over not having anymore rubbing alcohol.

 

With consideration, she pats a hand against Anna's uninjured shoulder, eventually tearing off the last remaining dressing. Haphazardly placing it over the entirety of Anna's hand, she lets out a soft groan and floats back to give them space to stand. As they make their exit, Philip doesn't bother to hold Anna's hand anymore, having learned what had happened, he walks over to the Nurse, leaning close to her face and delivering a short-lived kiss to her cheek. Excited trills escape his throat, he turns back towards Anna and they both make their way out of the building.

 

With one last look at the building, both killers are returned to their respective domains.

 

 

 _Anna_ _smiles,_ _her_ _saucer_ _and_ _teacup_ _held_ _within_ _her_ _hand_ _as_ _she_ _looks_ _over_ _at_ _her_ _healed_ _shoulder._   _Shaking_ _her_ _head_ _and_ _sipping_ _down_ _the_ _last_ _remaining_ _contents_ _of_ _her_ _steaming_ _tea._


	6. An act of Silence - Michael Myers X Leatherface -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bubba brings offerings... Michael brings unexpected hugs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, the chapter name is pretty dumb but I couldn’t come up with anything else. 
> 
> Also, Michael is sorta OOC. Again, I’m sorry.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Another trial done, another survivor escapes, another way to displease the deity that rules here. Sighing, Michael has no chance to look around Ormond as he's immediately transported back to a very familiar (Although not quite exactly as he remembers it.) Haddonfield. The Entity has done little to keep things as they are in the real Haddonfield, Michael reminds himself every time he's brought back to this place. Taking a seat in the living room of his old childhood home, Michael takes a moment to remove his mask, folding it and setting it down in his lap, a sound immediately reaches his ears. A soft gasp leaves him as he stands to his feet, disregarding the mask as it falls to his feet and he looks around, wondering who could be here. 

 

Who...?

 

There's been one person in particular who has visited him here on more then one occasion: The chainsaw wielding maniac. He isn't sure why though, since the male doesn't bother to utter a single word, just mumbles and incoherent nonsense. It's a strange feeling of having someone there beside you, someone who would often bring plants to give to him as offers to the Entity.

 

A figure steps into the doorway, Michael turns to face him, the taller male grunts, and without his usual weapon, Michael gives a shake of his head. Stumbling further into the Myers home, Bubba looks down at his feet, his hands cupped in front of him.

 

'What exactly does he-?'

 

Before that thought can be completely processed, Michael watches the other with uncertainty as he unclasps both hands to reveal a small pile of plants. Sticks, small bones, and rope twined around a few sticks sit on the bottom of his palms. The plants there are almost comically tiny within his large hands, Michael gives a silent chuckle, his shoulders bouncing as he once again shakes his head. The Wielder of Chainsaws saunters over to him, putting his hands out and grunting again, his hands push lightly against Michaels chest. Michael- who gazes around and hesitantly takes the offerings, reaches a hand out after thinking about it and gently grabs the items.

 

With a nod, Michael turns around and heads on over to the small island in the kitchen, setting the things down and walking back over to the male. He stands there awkwardly, shuffling on his feet and looking at the floor every few seconds. From the way Michael looked at the various sticks, he can see that there was some unfinished work done, the rope tightly wrapped around two sticks so that they intertwined with each other.

 

Reaching a hand out, Michael places it upon the man's shoulder, his fingers resting against the meaty flesh, the apron is filthy, spots of dried blood cover the thing. He can see that his tie is slightly undone and his hair is disheveled. It's the same thing he's always worn ever since he was brought into this horrid place. Bowing his head, Bubba stands there, unsure of what to do now, he moves his hands behind his back and clasps them together. Moving his hand away, Michael regards him with another sigh, turning his back to him and venturing back over to the chair that sits in the living room.

 

At least Bubba has the courtesy to bring him more offerings, even though Michael would have to finish the job. It doesn't surprise him anymore whenever the larger man shows up at his front doorstep, his hands always full of sticks and rope, awkwardly standing there. He’d meant to return the favor but soon found out that he just hung out at the campfire, putting two and two together that Bubba didn’t have a domain of his own.

 

Oh, well.

 

Running a hand through his hair and giving a soft sigh, Michael stands to his feet once again, his feet carrying him out onto the porch. What’s left of it is an almost rotting reminder of the past, a couple boards are in need of repair, chips of wood are missing, leaving exposed chunks behind. He places both hands against the edge, leaning forward and glancing up at the starless sky every few minutes. Bubba- who finally moved from his spot in the living room, joins him, although he doesn’t set his hands on the edge. Opting to just lean back against the thing instead, Bubba turns to look at him, a few incoherent mumbles fall from his lips, Michael nods in thanks, guessing at what he interprets as a “You’re welcome for the offerings”.

 

Without the mask, he feels sort of at ease, at least those who kill and reside in The Fog against their will don’t judge him. Come to think of it, Michael has had to only deal with Freddy, Herman and Evan- three killers who had sent chills even to him... unsettling vibes. Without hesitation, Michael scoots closer to Bubba, within arms length and wraps both around his midsection. Of course, it catches Bubba off guard, letting out a short-lived squeal. It’s only after a few seconds of pondering does Bubba return the strange affection, his meaty arms encircle around Michael’s waist as he rests his head over his shoulder.

 

They stay like this for a good two minutes until Michael breaks contact, heading back indoors and turning around to face the other. He lifts a hand, offering a silent goodbye, Bubba does the same- although he continues to wave at him longer then what is necessary.

 

With a final sigh, Michael watches as the male leaves his front porch, Entity and all transport him someplace else.

 

‘Probably back to the campfire.’

 

Michael thinks as he walks on over to his small island, staring down at the small pile l and allowing a smile to grace his features. He takes a seat and places both hands on its cold, dusty, and grimy surface. As he diligently does his best to finish the assembly of offerings, fingers scraping over the sharp ends of stick and bone, the rope wrapped tight around two fingers.

 

 

‘ _I’ll_ _have_ _to_ _return_ _the_ _favor.’_


	7. A Knife for a Knife - Michael Myers X The Legion | Frank Morrison -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank visits Michael, Michael sorta humors him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: More OOC Michael here. Also, I apologize for this being short and late.

Frank glanced over his shoulder, checking his surroundings before heading further into Haddonfield. Though no trial was happening right now, it unnerved him just to be here but he needed to see him for himself. The one who also possessed a similar weapon, he doubts its as cool as his hunting knife but still... Frank wants to see for sure, see if the one who stopped at nothing to kill was just as creepy to be around. Inching closer to the house, he crouched behind a brush, although he has a distinct feeling that the one they call Michael has already sensed his presence. Letting out a huff, Frank steps out from behind the thing and spreads his arms out, he hadn't brought his weapon, that wouldn't stop the other from getting rid of him just for being here in Haddonfield.

 

Michael stared at the man who decided to come here, his heavy breathing filling his ears as he walks on over to Frank, who hadn't moved from where he was standing.

 

"I just have a question for you. That's all."

 

His voice boasts some confidence, even he wouldn't want to find out what Michael can do without his signature weapon. So he holds his hands up, mask missing as he cautiously inches closer. Michael himself is without his mask, he lets a sigh fall from his lips and makes his way over to the other.

 

"Can I see your knife? I wanted to know if your knife is better then mine."

 

Frank rolls his shoulder, giving Michael an 'I don't know. Why not?' look. Michael nearly facepalms, shaking his head 'No' but before Frank can growl in frustration and turn to leave, Michael startled him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

"Hey! Get your hands off of me!"

 

Flinching back and grimacing, Frank glares at the other and Michael huffs, his chest silently rumbling.

 

"Are you... laughing? You better not be laughing at me." His words fall on deaf ears because Michael turns his back to him, raising a hand and swaying forward as if to say: "C'mon."

 

"Whatever." Frank mutters as he follows closely behind into what he assumes to be Michael's home. He doesn't bother to look around at first but then he thinks he'll never get the chance to be in this place ever again. At least not before Myers kills him, he heard about what Herman did to Anna. Sure it hadn't fazed him when he heard it at the campfire from Anna herself- who had let a single tear fall. However, once he grouped up with Julie and the others in private, he had told them what happened in hushed tones. For fear that someone might hear, the other members looked shocked and vowed not to mess with Carter for as long as they were in this horrible realm.

 

Seeing Anna cry is what made him realize that the Entity didn't possess complete control over its servants, that they were obviously allowed a fair share amount of emotions. No matter what emotion overpowered the other at one time. He had once seen the Wraith sob when he had thought no one was around to see him, only for Sally to hear his cries and had mistaken them for cries of pain. All she saw was him shaking his head and resting his forehead against the rotting trunk of a tree. All of this seemed to puzzle him; Why had the others let out their emotions? They were killers! The only emotion they should be feeling was anger!

 

Frank shakes his head in both frustration and the overwhelming presence of these thoughts as he takes a seat at the provided island. The kitchen is cold, but Michael doesn't seem to mind as he ventures over to the set of knives and grabs the chefs knife from its holster.

 

It's strange to see one another without their masks on, he figured the Trapper had never taken his mask off and once when he snuck up on the burly murderer to prank him and take the mask. Evan had been asleep, only for him to grab ahold of Frank's arm and rip it out of socket as soon as he felt smaller hands pluck at the mask beneath his chin. Sally was the one who had patched him up (Although her job in doing so was far from impressive, and she had let out a series of earsplitting screeches when Frank hollered throughout the entire 'procedure'.)

 

True, he didn't know many of their names, and he felt that he really didn't need to, their names had been discovered when he eavesdropped on some survivors once.

 

Herman Carter- The Doctor.

Anna- The Huntress.

Sally (He hadn't caught her last name.) The Nurse.

And Rin- The Spirit.

 

Michael breaks him from his thoughts, setting the knife down in front of Frank and mumbling something underneath his breath.

 

"If you have something to say to me then speak up, man."

 

Michael laughs, this time it startles Frank because he hears it. A gasp, a hand finds its way to the handle of the knife and he sort of practices a few swings. He watches Michael sit beside him, a smile as he leans close to watch Frank fiddle with the knife.

 

"This is much better then my own."

 

Grunting, Michael nudges his arm, Frank tries to guess what the other wants.

 

"Oh, I didn't bring my knife. Is that what you wanted to see?"

 

He's rewarded with a nod, and Frank laughs. Setting the knife back down and grinning.

 

"Sorry."

 

Raising a hand, Michael places it atop Frank's head and ruffles his hair, which causes Frank to flinch.

 

"Stop it!"

 

Groaning, Frank moves out of Michael's reach and desperately tries to fix his hair. However, Michael scoots closer and pulls Frank into a hug, much to Frank's objections.

 

Sighing, Frank runs a hand through his hair and grumbles, admitting defeat and reluctantly returning the hug.

 

They stay like this for a few minutes until Frank pulls away, breaking contact and standing to his feet.

 

"I've got to go. The others are probably looking for me."

 

Shrugging his shoulders, Frank sighs again and turns his back to the other male, walking on out of the house. Michael just stays put, staring blankly at the weapon and glancing at Frank as his figure disappears.

 

"Hey!"

 

Michael flinches at the voice, Frank had turned around to face him, his head poking in the doorway.

 

"See you around."

 

A nod, sigh, as Michael takes ahold of the knife and stands to his feet. Frank retreats out to the brush he'd been hiding behind. The Entity soon envelopes around his form, leaving Michael behind in a swirl of black smoke and mist.

 

 

 _'I'm_ _sure_ _he'll_ _be_ _back.'_


	8. Unbreakable - Michael Myers X Wraith -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael gets another visit from a killer, Philip wants something from him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I couldn’t pass up the obvious perk pun. Also, here’s some more OOC Michael.

Rustling, the whispers of footfalls, the slight whoosh of wind practically flows through his form as he runs further into the strange place known as Haddonfield. Philip had made sure no one had followed him, burning an offering (Although he hadn't been forced into any trial recently.) that would considerably increase his chances of being sent to Haddonfield. 

 

Why Haddonfield?

 

He hadn't been certain himself, but the Entity seemed to be in his favor, since the offering worked this time around. Glancing around, Philip ponders which house is Michael's, his eyes darting between the yellow house and the pathetic excuse for a blue house. At least two seconds pass and he's rushing on over to the blue one, his long legs carrying him over the pavement, feet glide over the soft blades of grass. Michael can be seen standing in the doorway leading into his home, back leaning against the questionably stable doorframe. Philip swiftly makes his way up the stairs, grabbing ahold of the bell at his side and making sure he's standing just more then a few meters away from Michael.

 

He raises the bell near his chest and rings it, his form shimmers as he reappears from the shadows. Long arms lay at his sides as he places the bell back by his side, his weapon clutched tightly in an iron vice grip as he stares Michael down, unsure of what to do. Meanwhile, Michael is mask-less and wondering how in the Entity's realm does that bell work, so of course, he pushes himself away from his doorframe. Casually walking over to Philip and for once in his life, grinning. It's not a grin of ill malice, no.

 

It's one of mischief, an opportunity to have some sort of fun around here besides feeding the deity that keeps its servants in constant check. With his hands clasped down in front of him, Michael looks over the other and with an eye on the prize, carelessly reaches a hand downward towards the bell and grabs at it.

 

Except...

 

Philip stiffens, his body rigid as his mouth opens to form a small 'o' of surprise, no words fall from his lips, he reaches a hand out towards Michael and pushes him away. It's at that exact that Michael realizes that it's not the bell he's touching. The scepter falls to Philip's side with a heavy thud, the bell follows next, until he leans down and gently picks the thing up from the porch. Ignoring Michael's presence completely, he sets it on the ledge of the porch, giving it a few sentimental pats before turning back around to face the male. He's just standing there, rocking back and forth on his heels and looking away, almost as if he's embarrassed.

 

In two strides, Philip is on him, his hand shoots out to touch the other mans face. Long, slender, and bony fingers stroke along the jawline as he completely presses his body against him. More confused then anything, Michael quirks a brow, placing a hand over Philip's as the other male continues to stroke along his jaw. Grabbing it, Michael moves his hand away, Philip stills, resting his hand over Michael's shoulder. With a growl, Philip brings Michael closer to him, and the other male allows it to happen.

 

Michael glares at the other, and this time steps back and reaches for the bell, he's stopped dead within his tracks though. Because Philip wraps both arms around Michael's midsection, his face resting against his chest as Michael stands there. His grip on him is strong and Michael lets out a huff, trying to move away as Philip tightens his hold on him, he smiles and lets out a sound akin to a purr. Chest rumbling as he unwraps his arms from around him and leans close to plant a kiss to his chin.

 

'Why has Philip come here in the first place?'

 

Shaking his head, Michael hesitantly returns the kiss, placing one on the crook of Philip's neck. He's rewarded with a few fervent kisses, Philip's lips pressing firmly against the skin of his chin. Stepping away, they both look at each other and nod, Philip placing a hand over Michael's chest and pressing his palm against him. Michael gestures towards his house and turns his back towards the other, huffing and walking back inside. Following after him, the Wraith stays closely behind, well aware of the terrifying sensation of something below that has caught his attention.

 

His erection strains for release as they venture into the living room, Michael turning to face him and noticing immediately. Mere seconds pass and Philip is trying to push the other onto the dirty hardwood flooring, but Michael is the one who retaliates and pushes him down. The crack of bones fills the room as Philip falls to the floor, Michael bending down and laying against the cold surface, giving the gesture for Philip to move on top of him.

 

As he hastily removes each and every one of his bandages, placing them in a neat pile slightly underneath the couch, Philip presses his lips to Michael's. Groaning under the touch, Michael shifts his weight and the Wraith stops completely, breaking contact to watch Michael shimmy out of his clothing. It's a long process and the heat and glow from the fireplace keeps them company, they lay down while Philip climbs on top of him again. The head of his cock probes Michael's hole, and without so much as a warning, pushes himself within, something between a growl and groan leave Philip's lips. Eyes shut tight as he's surrounded by Michael's heat, he continues to push through, despite no lube, he can see Michael struggling to his immense size.

 

More groaning and Philip finally brings himself to the hilt, unwilling to hold back as he begins to pound away into Michael's ass. Hips sway and buck harshly against Michael's as he grits his teeth and shuts his eyes due to the pain. Reaching a hand out, Michael places it upon the small of Philip's back, their groans and huffs fill the small area, Philip sets an intense rhythm. Grasping Michael's hips, his slender fingers digging into skin as he watches Michael writhe beneath him. He swears he can see Philip smirking and it wouldn't surprise him if he was.

 

Soon enough, Philip quickens his pace and watches Michael place a hand around his own length, vigorously masturbating, his breath coming out in short huffs. Running a hand through his hair, Philip leans downward and places a kiss over Michael's neck. He's sent over the edge and bites down on his skin, growling loudly and nuzzling the crook of his neck. His essence fills him completely, so much that when he leaves Michael, he looks away in embarrassment as some spills to the floor. Sitting up on his knees, Philip continues to watch Michael in fascination, Michael releasing soon after.

 

Both lay down beside each other, one lanky arm wrapped around Michael's chest while Michael presses his body against Philip's, he whispers into Philip's ear.

 

"I'm happy that you visited. Come back anytime."

 

_As he gestures to his mouth, Philip chirps and nods in response, his fingers brushing along Michael's as he lays his head over his chest. Eyes close for the remainder of the night as both killers hold each other in_ _their_ _arms..._


	9. It Takes A Leader - Joey | The Legion X Frank Morrison | The Legion -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank does something he shouldn’t, and Joey attempts to save him with gruesome results...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one has some graphic depictions of violence.

"Joey!"

 

A sigh, the unique mask carefully held within his grasp as Joey sighs for the fifth time.

 

'What could Frank possibly want now?'

 

He ignores the repeated shouts for his name and heads over in the direction where the shouting is coming from. There stands Frank, back leaning against the rotting trunk of a tree, the blade held loosely within his grasp as he twirls the thing within his hand.

 

"What, Frank?"

 

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

 

Joey glances around before settling down within the dirt, crossing his legs over each other and turning his undivided attention towards Frank. The mask sitting in his lap, his hands resting on top of it.

 

"I've noticed a couple of killers spending more time together lately."

 

Joey scoffs, giving a roll of his eyes and shaking his head.

 

"Yeah, and?"

 

Eyeing his blade, Frank looks back at him, excitement clearly evident in his eyes, his hair a little curly today.

 

"I have a plan to prank them, one that'll definitely keep them from wanting to see each other ever again."

 

Rolling his eyes again, Joey runs a hand through his hair.

 

"You're talking about messing with that doctor dude and annoying woman who breathes a lot?"

 

"Joey, we all breathe a lot."

 

"Whatever!"

 

He shifts his weight, leaning forward a little bit and then continues.

 

"He's pretty vicious, Frank. I wouldn't do anything too crazy."

 

"Dude, the guy is completely insane already. Plus, he doesn't deserve to spend time with her. I don't know why the giant spider-crab thing in the sky doesn't bother to do something about it. It's like it wants it to happen."

 

Frank's waving his hands around for emphasis, Joey just sits there and listens to whatever he has to say.

 

"I want to do something about it, Joey. Maybe we can attack them or something."

 

"Maybe we'll... oh, I don't know... both get killed? Didn't you hear about that Freddy guy?"

 

Giving a shrug of his shoulders, Frank quirks a brow and scoffs.

 

"He was mori'd when he decided to mess with that woman and bring her into his dreamworld. I guess he did it for shits and giggles. Anyways..."

 

With a heavy sigh, Joey stands to his feet and eyes Frank's weapon.

 

"Just don't do it, okay? I wouldn't want to see you get hurt."

 

His cheeks flame a bright crimson as he looks away.

 

"Get hurt? This is me we're talking about, Joey. I'm not gonna get hurt."

 

"Damn it, Frank! You're not immortal! None of us are! Death is not an escape for us either!"

 

"I know!"

 

"Listen, I-"

 

"Joey, just let me do this. I can't stand those two being so lovey dovey."

 

He quirks a brow at Frank, who's still leaning against the tree and aimlessly looking around.

 

"Whatever it is that you're planning to do... don't let him find out somehow."

 

"I won't, Joey."

 

Snatching up Joey's mask, Frank sighs and moves away from the tree, his blade now kept within the pocket of his jacket.

 

"He won't know it's me."

 

There it is... Crotus Prenn Asylum.

 

The one place where he knew she would be, where she resided and aimlessly wandered around. Frank crouch-walks, careful to listen out for any of her trademark screeching. Oh, the screeching was what he hated the most about her, between her heavy breathing and loud screaming, he couldn't decide what he hated more. Drawing the knife from his pocket, he chuckles, cautiously heading into the building.

 

He'll give her something to screech about, that's for damn sure.

 

Muttering something to himself, he stands up and begins to walk around, peeking into empty and filthy rooms. The atmosphere seems filled with a faint medical stench, although from what he can see, there aren't many medical tools lying around. Even when he does find one distinct dirty pillowcase resting atop another pillow does he actually begin to wonder where she is. Turning around causes him to yelp and although he doesn't dare run, the fear shows within his eyes behind Joey's mask.

 

Sally has heard something or someone move things around in here, investigating the ruckus and entering this room to see what it was that had caught her attention. It had been him: the one who she hadn't seen before. A wrapping covering her eyes, her red, slightly curly hair falls a little behind the neck. The dress long, dirty, and with the usual lacework, it sways as she raises her weapon high in the air. The sharp blade threatens to fall forward and slice within flesh, muscle, and bone of her next victim.

 

And oh, does she want him to be dead.

 

He had been the one who found her sitting by her lonesome at the campfire humorous. His laughter ringing in her ears as she lifted her head at the sudden intrusion and had been weeping loudly. She still remembers the horrible day when the foreman brought her the news of Andrew, and the events that had followed. At least, from what she can remember.

 

Before any hit can be registered, Frank lifts his own weapon and stabs at her arm holding hers. She hollers out but it isn't enough to keep her from bringing the weapon down on him. Slicing through his jacket and creating a deep wound to his forearm, it sends a chill down his spine and causes him to shriek out. Dropping his respective weapons due to the pain, Frank wonders if he underestimated her and with a hand clutching his arm, walks out of the room. He isn't allowed to leave though because Sally blinks right beside him and grabs his shoulder, yanking him back with strength he didn't think she'd have.

 

Groaning as blood seeps through and covers his clothing, Frank frustratingly pushes her away. Her grip on his shoulder begins to burn, bony fingers digging into the jacket, causing a dull ache to surface as she drags him back into the room. At first, he thinks she's going to kill him, until another figure appears and steps within the doorway, blocking his only exit.

 

Herman Carter.

 

Great, he thinks. His skin is hot, the shirt uncomfortably sticking to his clothing as he feels the hand move away from his shoulder. Ignoring his wound to an extent, Frank watches the killer step into the room, joining Sally at her side, his apparatus on full display. It makes him cringe to see his eyelids peeled completely open for what he thinks to be an eternity. Watching them conduct a 'conversation' is weird, he's used to using words and such, but with them that's not possible. All from what he can see is body language and gesturing towards him, it makes this situation seem like a huge mistake.

 

Once they're finished 'talking', Herman stalks over to him, his form towering over him as he stands mere inches away. He doesn't do anything, just stands there as Frank tries to plan his escape route, Sally floats over to him. Her weapon held limply at her side, she looks down at him, although it looks more like she's fallen asleep instead.

 

Another person enters the room, someone wearing Julie's mask, their weapon at the ready as they sneak behind Herman and leap onto his back.

 

"Julie!"

 

With a cry, Frank jumps up, Herman nearly falling forward from the assault on his back as he grabs ahold of Julie's hand and pulls.

 

A sickening crack of bones can be heard and a scream soon follows after, the person falls to the floor with a heavy thud. That scream is surprisingly male though, and Frank has an idea of who it is.

 

"Hey!"

 

Rushing past both of them, Frank bends down and places a hand over the person's shoulder. His face distraught as he leans over to inspect the broken hand, the knife clatters to the side as Sally reaches out to grab ahold of Frank's neck. Yanking him back, he shouts and swings his hand back to stab at her arm, she screeches out, letting go of him and floating back over to Herman's side. Once he regains his footing, he quickly bends down and heaves the person over his shoulder, speaking softly.

 

"You were right, whoever you are. I did something stupid and shouldn't have."

 

Groaning from his wound, Frank makes his way out of the room, being followed by The Doctor.

 

He screams, falling to his knees and nearly dropping the person to the floor. They holler out, Frank's shoulder jerked back by a strong grip and yanked once again. With no time to react, he's spun around, knees scratching along the cement with the movement. With a giggle, he's struck in the side of the arm with the Doctor's weapon, causing him to scream out in intense pain.

 

Is it due to the constant static field, or the pain and trickle of blood rushing down the side of the huge gash within his arm? With a howl, Frank screws his eyes shut as The Doctor removes his weapon from the skin, it had become lodged within bone and muscle.

 

'Who had came to attempt a rescue though?'

 

He thinks as he falls back onto the floor, his back thugs against the cold surface and the person beside him moves closer. Wrapping an arm around Frank's midsection, they lean ever closer and whisper into his ear: "I'm glad I came back for you."

 

Tears prick his eyes and he doesn't care enough to wipe them away, just laying there and staring up at the two killers who curiously looked down upon the both of them. One who's head lulled downward at an awfully painful angle, the other a grotesque and permanent grin forever set in place, one such grin that could make even the sanest man go mad.

 

A cough, sniffles, and feeble attempt to wrap an arm around whoever decided to try and save him. Before he can do anything else, Herman leans over and brings his weapon down, it makes contact with Frank's stomach and he's coughing up blood in no time.

 

Sally's wound isn't stopping, Herman's heavy breathing seems to intensify with each hit to Frank's stomach, his entrails exposed.

 

Ragged breathing and coughing leave Frank struggling to find the words, his lips quiver with each breath he takes.

 

"I'll come back for you."

 

Raising a hand to the strangers mask, he lifts it up to reveal Joey, who had decided to disguise himself as Julie instead.

 

 

_It's all he can say since the next few hits are to the face, Frank's last breath is a painful one, his teeth bleeding and his hair disheveled. Even after Frank is dead, Herman continues to exact his rage against him. It had all been for her- Sally Smithson..._


	10. Between The Two of Us - Michael Myers X Trapper -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael wants to meet Evan and ends up getting more then be bargained for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A lemon, simply put. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

When wandering into Haddonfield, Michael had hoped that there was one killer who would be similar to him out of all the others. Save for the fact that there were killers who couldn't speak or chose not to, Evan was one who had been a mystery. Could he speak at all? Was he horribly disfigured beneath the mask of bone? Did he possess the ability to speak but just chose not to? Perhaps it was The Entity's choice not to allow them to speak (Or for those who couldn't, had permanently taken away their ability to speak.) but whatever the reason, Michael wanted to see for himself. This was always dangerous territory, he had known that Evan had treated others who ventured wherever he was as survivors for awhile. He'd act as though it were a trial, constantly setting traps and placing them in well covered patches of grass.

 

He didn't care though because he wanted to see "The Entity's favorite" for himself, and if that meant purposefully stepping into a bear trap and resisting him in order to catch his attention, then so be it. In fact, that didn't seem like such a bad idea, he thinks as he crouches and vaults over a window.

 

SNAP!

 

A sickening crunch of bone alerts him to his ironic situation, he's been trapped for good. A scream echoes across the entire area as he bends downward to try and escape said trap. Of course, it's no good and once he hears a faint heartbeat, his own quickens, blood rushing to his ears as he continuously tries to pry open the trap. Its jaws snap shut around the already bloodied ankle, the pain unbearable as the heartbeat becomes stronger, signifying Evan's unnerving presence. Once he feels strong hands wrap around his midsection, he sets his plan in motion, of course, Evan is surprised to find Michael isn't struggling to free himself.

 

An iron grasp of an arm wraps tightly around his torso as Evan walks out of the small shack and into the darkness that is the Haddonfield. Eventually though, hands pound at Evan's back, a foot accidentally kicks him in the crotch, causing Evan to groan.

 

'From pain or something else though?'

 

Michael doesn't have time to wonder because he's set down right in front of a hook, it sways gently above him, foreshadowing his impending doom. He looks up, practically crying from his deep wound but doesn't get the chance to stand to his feet. Shoving him back to the ground, Evan huffs, his heavy breathing reverberating through the mask, making him akin to a bear breathing. Blood gushes from his ankle, he whimpers as Evan lifts him up on his knees, a handful of hair within his callused fingers and a jerk forward.

 

'He won't need to stand for this anyway.'

 

Evan thinks as he rests his weapon beneath Michael's chin, forcing him to look up at Evan. Michael hadn't brought his weapon with him, which he thinks is a big mistake now. In this situation, one can only do one thing: Comply. He hadn't considered wearing his mask, hoping that Evan would mistake him for a survivor but that seems to be dwindling because Evan is leaning close to his face. Unlike Michael, Evan wears his mask at all times, even now as he's inches away from his face.

 

"Stay there, Michael."

 

The Trapper stands to his full height again, cleaver held tight by his side. Even Michael has to admit that the voice sends a chill up and down his spine, it sounds rough, like his hands were just moments ago. A gasp falls from his lips as Evan shoves Michael's face into the apex of Evan's thighs, he can feel the heat from his body radiating beneath his clothing. As his shoulders rise and fall in silent chuckles, Evan looks down at Michael expectantly, to which Michael gives a nod. Fumbling with his clothing, Evan eventually steps out of his clothing, it falls to the ground with a heavy thud and he sidesteps away from it.

 

His body is appropriately toned with that of a seasoned hunter, of course running after survivors has its own perks, well toned muscles, an impressive length, a broad chest. With a hand still holding his weapon, Evan returns it to Michael's chin, once again forcing him to look up.

 

"I know that mouth can work. It isn't going to suck itself."

 

Nodding once more, Michael wraps a hand around the length, until he realizes that he has to use both just to be sure. Evan groans above him, slightly jerking his hips into the other males touch, Michael eyes the cleaver down by his chin. The smooth, cold side resting against his skin, the sharp teeth digging into his neck. Without question, Michael leans forward, standing close to Evan's thighs, his lips ghost over the girth-y length, peppering kisses all along his cock. He takes him in his mouth, slowly at first, his hands working all along Evan's length.

 

Gradually, he takes him further, Evan seems impatient though, a hand grasps Michael's hair and pulls roughly. Whimpering from the pain, Michael speeds up the pace, hoping that's what Evan wants. He quickens the pace, shoving as much of himself into Michael's mouth as he possibly can. The man beneath him groans, reaching downward to palm at the painful and obvious erection.

 

"No."

 

Swatting his hand away, Evan growls, thrusting his hips forward and sighing contently.

 

"I'll decide when you can touch yourself. Stop."

 

Pulling away, Michael gasps for air, saliva pools at the corners of his mouth as he places a hand over his chest. Letting go of his hair, Evan backs away, nodding in the direction of the hook.

 

"Scoot back and lean against the hook there, but stand up and strip for me."

 

Another nod and Michael is on his feet, still gasping and casually disrobing before the taller man, fingers fumble over the clasps of his clothing. Eventually though, his suit falls to the ground, and he gives it a kick to the side. A hand touches his backside, causing Michael to shiver in both surprise and anticipation, Evan chuckles.

 

"You'll be ready for me, I'm certain."

 

Two fingers probe his hole, thick and callused, the touch is surprisingly gentle as Evan enters a finger.

 

"So tight, I'm guessing you've never done this before. Let alone with a woman."

 

Another chuckle, this one is unsurprisingly sadistic though and Evan swiftly exits him. A groan leaves the man, he spreads his legs wide, ready to be taken.

 

Running the smooth edge of the cleaver along his back, the teeth leave a tingling sensation all across his skin as Evan allows the weapon to nick his skin. Tiny beads of crimson seep through the cut, a short gasp leaves Michael's lips, his arms wrapped tightly around the base of the hook. The metal feels cold against his skin, the moonlight illuminating their intimate situation. A loud thud, the cleaver falls to the ground again and Evan bends over the man. His length pressing firmly against Michael's ass, teasing him as he thrusts his hips repeatedly against bare skin.

 

Leaning ever closer over his back, Evan runs his tongue all along the cut he made, groaning softly as he laps up the small amount of blood. It seems to make him move faster, his hips slamming into Michael's.

 

"Just fuck me already."

 

Stilling his movements completely, Evan growls, placing a finger against the cut and pushing hard. That makes Michael holler out in pain, his eyes screwed shut as he grits his teeth.

 

"I'll get inside you when I decide. You don't make the decisions here, Michael."

 

Whimpering as Evan plays around with the blood along the cut, Michael opens his eyes and relaxes. His tongue ravaging the wound again, Evan lets out a long series of groans and sighs, leaving a wet trail of saliva in his wake.

 

"Mmm..."

 

This lasts for a few minutes, once finished though, he has reached his decision as he grinds against Michael's ass.

 

"Get ready for me, bottom."

 

"Bottom? I'm definitely not- Ahhh!"

 

If one hadn't known better, they would've thought that someone had just been hooked. Instead, Evan shoves himself into Michael, meeting resistance all the way through. Filling him to the hilt, Evan moans and leans his head back, spine arching slightly. It's difficult for Michael to adjust to the size and hold onto the hook for dear life as Evan sets a brutal pace, bringing a hand down over an asscheek. It stings, of course and that causes Michael to curse out.

 

Evan rests one hand over a cheek while the other pulls violently at his hair.

 

"Oh my Entity, you _can_ take me."

 

His breathing is heavy, hips snapping against Michael as his movements become jerky. Another moan and he's speeding things up, spanking his ass more times then he can remember.

 

"Do you do this to..."

 

Michael's breathing is heavy, beads of sweat drip and roll down his face, he almost loses his footing because of Evan.

 

"...Everyone who comes here?"

 

He doesn't get an answer because Evan stops and gets down on his knees, bending Michael into an uncomfortable position before plowing into him once more. One hand still gripping his hair, the other gently running along the curvature of his spine, Evan yells out in ecstasy. A hand reaches around to fondle Michael's shaft, pumping him furiously, fingers gripping skin as Evan speaks between breaths.

 

"You... feel... amazing..."

 

Moaning out loudly, Michael moves his hips in time with Evan's strokes. It doesn't take long for him to release though, the grip, the speed, the pent up frustration bringing him over the edge. Wiping his hand off on Michael's stomach, he grips his hips and speeds up his pace once more.

 

Evan hollers out, smacking Michael on the ass again.

 

"I'm close!"

 

"W-Wait! Are you going to-"

 

Again, he doesn't get a response because Michael immediately lets out a whimper, Evan stills, his thighs shaking as he releases. Michael's mouth forms a small 'o' at the sensation of being filled up. After a few minutes, Evan eventually pulls out, a mix of his seed and Michael's blood leave him, soiling the ground below. Letting out a groan, Michael attempts to stand up, although he nearly loses his balance from trying so Evan helps him stand. His blood still drips down his back from the cut, sweat continues to roll off his skin.

 

Their bodies are a complete mess, both awkwardly redress in front of each other, their gazes meet more then once. He's certain that his body is going to feel sore tomorrow, but he doesn't say anything about it to Evan.

 

"Until next time, Michael."

 

"What makes you think I'll return?"

 

All Evan does is shake his head, his mask hiding the smirk behind it, picking up his cleaver and turning away from him. Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes, walking away from the hook that'll forever be burned within his memory.

 

 

 

 

_'That wasn't so bad. Maybe I will come back?’_


	11. Tears are for Both of us Two - Trapper X Wraith -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip gets hurt and Evan knows how to make him feel better...

"What happened?"

 

It was Freddy who had heard Philip howling out in pain, probably due to that bear trap he had stepped in a minute ago.

 

Pounding footfalls alert him to turn around, seeing Evan run towards them in the distance, his cleaver held by his, Philip whimpers and gestures towards his ankle. Painful and sad trills fall from his lips, Freddy swears he can see tears pool in his eyes.

 

"Oh, what the fuck are you crying for, bitch?"

 

"Fredrick..."

 

Gulping down his next insult, he turns back around to see Evan standing right behind him, his body heat warming up Freddy.

 

"Don't call me that."

 

"Let me see him. Move."

 

Growling out that last word, Evan pushes Freddy out of the way when he refuses to move, his form thuds against a tree, effectively knocking him out. Shrugging his shoulders, he bends down and gets a much better look at the damage, reaching a hand out to touch Philip's ankle. A loud, hoarse shriek nearly deafens Evan, his hands clasping over his ears as he grits his teeth.

 

Oh... it's worse then he had previously thought...

 

Blood soaked his fingers as he gently handles his ankle, the teeth of the trap buried deep within bone, and all the while Philip is letting out shrills to the heavens. He feels bad to some extent, it's partially his fault for getting caught in the trap, the other part is he was probably not paying attention where he was walking. From what he remembers, he knows how to heal an injury from his bear traps, but the problem is getting Philip to stay still while he heals him. Placing both hands around the sides of the trap, he tries his best to swiftly pull both sides apart, it works but Philip howls out. The strong scent of blood hits his nostrils, Evan leaning close to Philip's form and scooping him up within his arms, one arm hooked beneath his 'skin'. While the other rests underneath his shoulders, he lifts Philip and stands up with a grunt, his fingers tracing small circles within his back.

 

'I know where I can go to fix this.'

 

He looks him over, taking note that Philip's ankle looks awfully bloody, dark crimson rolling down his foot as Evan sympathizes with Philip.

 

With a heavy feeling in his heart, he breaks off into a sprint, leaving Freddy behind and crossing into the darkness of the woods...

 

At least ten minutes later...

 

It didn't seem right to bring him back to the ironworks, so he brought him back to the Macmillan Estate, there Philip sat in Archie Macmillan's living room. Plastic wrappings covering the furniture to prevent dust and dirt from soiling the fabrics. Although that didn't prevent dust and dirt covering the plastic itself, Evan bends down in between Philip's legs with a med-kit on the floor. A plush pillow sat beneath the injured ankle, it wasn't very bright in this room. What little light was in this room, Evan would just have to make do with what he had. The blood that had covered his fingers dried up, not bothering to clean his hands as he frustratingly handles the needle and thread.

 

'This is going to hurt me more then it's going to hurt him.'

 

Shaking his head and grunting, Evan gets to work, the blood on his ankle and surrounding it had been wiped off. He pushes one end of the needle into his skin, watching Philip writhe in the chair and whimper, he cries out when Evan pulls the skin together. Tying off the thread and cutting off the very end, he tries not to hurt him more then what is necessary. His heart throbs painfully in his chest when he sees Philip cry out again, a loud throaty screech that fills the room once Evan pushes the needle through the second half of the wound. His ankle is shaking as Evan's fingers continuously fumble with the thread, dropping both needle and thread when Philip accidentally kicks his arm.

 

Startled by this, Evan gasps and after a minute passes, reaches a hand out to gently stroke along Philip's cheek. This effectively calms him down, relaxing into the chair and closing his eyes. Thankfully, the pillow provides enough support to keep Philip from moving his ankle around too much, once Evan is sure that Philip is calm, he moves his hand away and tries to be swift. It takes at least three more times of stroking his cheek and gently whispering to him when Evan finally finishes healing him.

 

"There. Your ankle is healed. Perhaps The Entity will allow you some reprieve?"

 

Voice hoarse and gruff, it causes Philip to flinch, eyes open as he sits up and curls his legs up to his chest. A somewhat worried expression crossing his features, to which Evan nods.

 

"The Entity won't be displeased with you."

 

His reply is a series of whimpers and soft chirps, another nod from Evan.

 

"I will help you return to Autohaven Wreckers."

 

Another set of chirps mixed in with some soft growling, a slender hand gestures to his ankle. Letting out a soft sigh, the Trapper cautiously places a hand over his ankle.

 

"It will take some time to fully heal, yes."

 

Lowering his head, Philip sniffles, a tear falls down his cheek.

 

There's that feeling of a throbbing heartache that returns to Evan's chest. He moves his hand away and stands to his full height.

 

"I know. It hurts you, doesn't it? That trap was not set out for you on purpose, Philip."

 

Vigorous nodding and more quiet sniffling from the killer in front of him, the Trapper sighs, placing the medical supplies back into the tin box and closing it. He bends down to pick it up, setting it down on a nearby end table.

 

"Do you want to leave now?"

 

One nod and Philip tries to stand on his own, but falls back into the chair.

 

"Be careful. Here, let me help you."

 

Leaning downward, Evan grabs both of Philip's arms and drapes them around his neck, his arms envelope around Philip's back as he stands up. Holding tightly onto Evan, Philip pushes his body against his, his legs wrapping around Evan's midsection.

 

Realization dawns on him and he feels heat rise to his cheeks, cheeks dusted a bright crimson once Evan rests his chin against Philip's shoulder.

 

"Maybe we can carry you a different way?"

 

Nodding, Philip unclasps himself from around Evan, Being careful not to put any weight on his injury as Evan scoops him up bridal style.

 

He gives a nod and reassures him that he'll be more careful when he hears Philip whimper from the slight pain in his ankle.

 

"I'll be extremely careful, I promise. We'll be in Autohaven Wreckers soon."

 

With a patched up ankle and another nod, Evan makes haste to get out of the estate and as far away through the fog as possible.

 

What seems like a few minutes later...

 

Time doesn't exist here as far as both killer and survivor know, but it sure feels like it didn't take long for Evan to arrive at Philip's domain.

 

When the thick, black smoke and fog whirled around the two of them, he had hoped that The Entity would let him return Philip. Even going so far as to burn an offering that would hopefully considerably increase his chances of being sent to Autohaven Wreckers. It had worked thus far, heavy footfalls make their way towards Gas Heaven, the bell greeting the two as Evan steps through the doorway. He takes this moment to glance around at the disorganized place, until a small gasp averts his attention. One bony finger points to a spot behind the small counter, Evan gives a chuckle, his chest rumbling and shoulders rising with it.

 

"How could I forget about your favorite spot?"

 

Long strides carry both of them over behind the counter, its surface layered in a thin film of dirt and dust. Evan sets Philip down feet first before wrapping an arm around his slender torso, Philip's foot barely touches the floor. He's rewarded with soft purrs and small trills, nuzzling the crook of Evan's neck, to which he chuckles again.

 

"You're very welcome, Philip."

 

Watching Philip rest his hands against the smooth surface and grasp it for support, Evan unwraps his arm from Philip and eventually stops chuckling.

 

"I'm going to leave now but I'll see you at the campfire soon."

 

Offering one last smile and a pat on the shoulder, Evan turns to leave, walking out of the building and returning to the thick fog. The familiar smoke wisps over his feet, rising above and around his entire form until he's transported back to the Macmillan Estate.

Evan smiles as he walks through the forest and towards the ironworks, the starless sky looming above him. He smiles behind the mask one last time before thinking of Philip.

_'At least he's back at Autohaven Wreckers, he'll get better soon.'_


	12. Shadows Worth A Thousand Words - Trapper X Wraith -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip gets more then he bargains for, and Evan does something about it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Slight dubious consent in this chapter.

There's two things you should always do when aimlessly walking around the Macmillan Estate: One, always look out for bear traps and two, don't do anything stupid. What exactly does that mean though? How does one not act stupid when in the vicinity of another killers domain? The answer is simple: don't run into the killer and don't let the killer find you. 

 

For one killer in particular, that rule of thumb never really crossed his mind. In fact, he had heard of what happened to Michael and curiosity had indeed killed the cat. By all means, Philip had kept close to Sally and would watch her work over her shoulder. Although, once Michael had visited her, he'd ring the Wailing Bell and hide within the shadows, staying still and out of sight. Instead of keeping away from a place that he had absolutely no business in being in, Philip had actually wanted to see Evan Macmillan for himself.

 

Not to write out questions in the dirt before the two of them, no. It also wasn't to bother the renowned killer either. All it was is simple curiosity of seeing another killer. Would he allow the other to watch him hunt down game? Even though what little game was here had only been made possible due to The Entity. What would Evan do to him if he were to glance around in the ironworks and quite possibly never leave?

 

Would Evan find some cruel and unnecessary punishment? Send him to Herman Carter- who would have no problem in torturing him? All of this thinking made him lose track of where he was at this point, tons of trees surrounded him, small and dark patches of grass littered the ground. The moonlight shining bright in between said trees, crates of coal lie within the center of the area, crumbling brick walls sit all around the ends of this place. The constant groaning of the ironworks quickly irritate him, his weapon clasped on the side while the bell hangs at his other side.

 

He hadn't considered cloaking because he wants Evan to see that he's here, wanting to see what he's up to. Running through patches of grass and sneaking around crumbling walls of brick, he's crouched and careful, spotting Evan in the distance. It was strange to see the much taller male standing there and looking at a hook, and as far as he knew, there were no survivors. Still, he watches from a safe distance, Philip's body halfway hiding behind the wall and the other half out in the open. Why was he staring at the hook like that?

 

He lets out a soft groan, hoping that Evan hadn't heard him. It's only then when he looks back at the hook does he realize that Evan is no longer there. Senses now on high alert, he places a hand over the bell and raises it, grabbing the weapon to cloak and hide within the shadows. A hand shoves the bell away, his weapon falling to the ground with a thud. That same hand wraps itself around Philip's throat, the heavy breathing from the mask startles him and he doesn't dare move when Evan swipes a finger across Philip's dry caked lips.

 

Fingers dive into Philip's mouth, a groan leaves the taller man as his fingers brush against his tongue. He pulls them away, fingers now clasped tightly around the neck, Philip claws at Evan's hand, gasping for breath. Eventually he lets go and backs away, staring at the other male, Evan drops his weapon to the ground. Stunned by what just happened, Philip backs away and turns to leave, until Evan grabs ahold of his shoulder and yanks him back. Clasping an arm around his torso, Evan grazes his fingers across the shadow hunters crotch.

 

Flinching from the sudden contact, Philip grunts, he's hauled over Evan's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Those same fingers continue to touch and grasp at Philip's erection, he carries him over to the hook he was staring at. Short, little gasps escape Philip's lips, eyes half lidded as he rests his hands against Evan's back. Setting him down, the Trapper pulls his hand away and steps back, admiring his work on the other killer. There's a noticeable bulge where the bandaging wraps around his groin, Philip just stands there, wondering what's to come.

 

Dropping to his knees startles him, his thighs shake slightly as he leans close to Philip's thighs, lifting the mask just above his mouth, his tongue flicks along the bandaged erection. Taking his time with the male, Evan grasps both of his hips and shoves his face further into the apex of Philip's thighs, his tongue pressing hard against the bandages. Growling and huffing, Philip shuffles his feet, placing both hands over Evan's shoulders and watching him work at him. There's a soft chuckle, Philip practically smiling down at Evan.

 

"If you think this feels good, wait until later."

 

There's a distinct dampness along the bandages covering the head of Philip's shaft, Evan intentionally digs his fingers into Philip's thighs, Philip lets out an intense growl.

 

"You like that, Philip?"

 

Nodding in response, he bucks his hips into Evan, causing the taller male to laugh.

 

"That's too bad."

 

Rising to his full height and placing the mask back down over his face, Evan wipes what little blood that has gathered over his fingertips across his arm. All Philip does is stare up at him and look down at the ground, droplets of his blood fall to the dirt.

 

Reaching a hand out and lightly touching Evan's arm, Philip lets out a small trill, tilting his head to the side as he does this.

 

"You want me to continue?"

 

Another nod, and Evan bends down on his knees in front of him once again, lifting his mask past his lips and placing a kiss over Philip's hip.

 

Tracing his tongue all along the shaft, his hands roam along Philip's stomach and sides, he can easily hug him right now if he wanted to. This goes on for a few more minutes until Evan pulls away, licking his lips and sighing.

 

Without warning, he claws at the bandages that are wrapped tightly over Philip's nether region, fingertips scratching his 'skin', Philip makes a sound of protest. His hand flying to Evan's and grasping it, Evan halts and looks into his eyes.

 

"How else am I going to do remove it, Philip?"

 

Huffing and closing his eyes for a few seconds, Philip moves his hand away and rests it against his chest.

 

"Yes, I apologize."

 

It takes a few more minutes of assuring Philip he'll be more careful with the wrappings when he finally removes the last one. Immediately, Evan grazes his fingers against the massive length, taking a moment to stand back up and disrobe. He gently places his clothing aside and looks down at the other male.

 

"This is going to hurt you more then it's going to hurt me, Philip."

 

Gulping nervously, Philip gives a curt nod and stands up, only for Evan to push him back down, his hand atop his head.

 

"No, stay down there."

 

Getting back down on his knees, he makes a gesture for Philip to turn around, to which he does as he's told and huffs again. Eyeing Philip and parting his lips, he doesn't say anything, placing both hands on both sides of Philip's hips, slightly lifting his body off the ground. It's an incredibly uncomfortable position, lanky arms extend outward so that his bony hands and fingers can plant firmly into the cold dirt below.

 

Something between a harsh, loud growl and shriek rips past Philip's throat, the moment once Evan forcefully pushes himself into Philip's entrance is a foreign sensation. One that leaves him gasping for breath, his chest rising and falling in quick succession as Evan pushes further into the other male, hips finally press firmly against skin. A few seconds of reprieve for Philip and Evan sets a brutal pace, hitched gasps and a silent 'o' of surprise when Philip turns to face him bring a hidden smirk behind the mask. Certainly not wasting any time, Evan's hips snap against 'skin', his own breath faltering in between his movements. It's a painful thing unlike anything Philip has ever had the thought of experiencing, his eyes screw shut as he grits his teeth when Evan hits a particularly intense spot inside him.

 

A pat on his back brings him to open his eyes, thick fingers trail all along the Wraith's shoulder, his figure jolts with the Trappers movements.

 

"It... feels... incredible... Doesn't... it?"

 

Hot breath pushes its way past the bony mask and wafts over Philip's back as Evan speaks in between breaths, Nails gather dirt, his mouth twisted into a grimace, Evan increases the pace. Lifting Philip's legs higher and managing (with difficulty) to wrap both of them around his neck, his legs set in a sort of backwards crisscross position, a shrill scream echoes out into the empty estate.

 

A maniacal chuckle from the man above him, elbows dropping onto the dirt and grass, Philip is gradually losing his strength. He makes a horrible attempt to scowl, wanting nothing more then the ability to speak out and regain his strength. But with the task at hand, he wonders if Evan would even listen to him at all.

 

Now it seems as though he's falling apart, limb to limb as his body seems to be stretched beyond its fragile limits, Evan either pays no attention to Philip's current state, or simply ignores it. A hand snakes around his torso, gripping his length in an iron grasp, eyes snap open in surprise as the same hand pumps him with vigor. Another hand rests against his shoulder, gripping it tightly as his body jolts violently, Evan growls.

 

It doesn't take long for Evan to be brought over the edge, a groan, heavy panting as his body stills, hips pressed firmly against Philip. The strange sensation of the essence causes Philip to shudder, eyes half lidded, his mouth forming another small 'o'. Bending over to lay against Philip's back, the hand still wrapped around his length is enough for him to reach his own orgasm, a hand desperately claws at Evan's. Nails scratch at the skin, their chests rising and falling as Philip's own essence soils the ground beneath them, something he looks away from. Finally, after a moment of much needed reprieve, his legs are unwrapped from Evan's neck, legs hit the ground and Philip is quick to stand so as not to soil his skin. Nearly falling to his knees as he turns around, a strong hand grabs his arm, pulling him close in an embrace. He doesn't think of their nether regions touching, or the intimate hugging, the slightest smile tugs at the corners of his lips when Philip wraps an arm under his neck. His hand resting atop the mask, wishing that he could see Evan's face this time around, arms encircle around Philip's lower back, fingers grasp and tug at the skin here.

 

They stay like this for what seems like forever. What Philip can't see is the genuine smile hidden behind the mask he's holding so close and dear. Evan thinks to himself, the palms of his hands lay flat against Philip.

 

 

 

 _'He'll be more than_   _welcome_ _to_ _return next time...'_


	13. Another Dose - Trapper X Doctor -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herman gets a visit from Evan and Evan gets a little uncomfortable...

Sorting through medical files was tedious and mundane in the Entity's realm. For a certain doctor in particular though, it kept him busy, kept him from sneaking up to unsuspecting survivors outside of the trials and torturing them. It kept him from torturing the other killers, and most of all it kept him away from the others. One does not pour more gasoline into an already raging inferno, let alone one who was devoid of any sanity. Even if there was the possibility of what little sanity was left, no one - Killer or survivor - had not wondered beyond what little they already knew. 

 

Placing the small stack of manila folders back into the filing cabinet, Herman removes his glasses and sets them down, the shattered lens catching his attention. Dried blood is speckled along the tiny shards, his fingers drum against his desk as he lifts a hand to his tie, adjusting it. With the apparatus removed and set aside on top of the filing cabinet, he runs a hand over his face, leaning back into the chair and glancing up at the ceiling. A thud averts his attention, eyes snapping open as he sits up straight, only to stand to his full height and grab the stick, an iron grip. Another thud, this one louder then the first, there's a soft sound of footsteps, and the feeling that someone else besides himself could be here in his Institute makes him snarl.

 

Gritting his teeth, the stick held down by his side, Herman marches out of his office and around the corner - no one there or at least someone might have. His feet carry him further down the hall, empty rooms scattered with various medical equipment, dusty medical files from patients past litter all the rooms he passes. His coat swaying gently behind him, raising the stick slightly above his head as he rounds another corner. This time though, he bumps into someone - a large male at that - who grunts in response and stumbles back. Eyes widen once Evan is hit in the chest with the weapon, colliding with solid muscle, Herman swinging it back down over the same area and breathing heavily - his trademark breathing. Strong hands grip Herman's shoulders, causing him to drop the stick to the floor, it clatters with a clank. Fire practically fills Evan's eyes as he hollers in the Doctor's face.

 

"What the hell, Herman?!"

 

Unlike Herman, Evan is wearing his mask, blight rolls over and down the entire thing, an orange hue, Herman takes obvious notice to his clean skin and prominent nipple. Candy colored cheeks make him look away, Evan chuckles and nods, shaking off his hostility within seconds.

 

"I know what you're looking at. The Entity made me wear this, whispered about it being a 'gift'."

 

Letting go of Herman's shoulders, Evan sighs and steps back, bending down to pick up the stick and give it back.

 

"Here."

 

He points a finger, poking Herman in the chest with it, a menacing growl.

 

"If you hit me with that thing again, I'll hide it from you so you'll be forced to shock survivors only."

 

Giggling, Herman gives a shrug of his shoulders, turning his back to Evan and making the trip back to a room. He gestures for Evan to follow him.

 

"Now... Are you here for a second appointment?"

 

 

What seems like ten minutes later...

 

Being restrained is something Evan has grown to hate, especially when in proximity to the Doctor. His hands and legs are bound tight, head resting against a pillow, the bed positioned in an upright position. Hands work at the injury to his chest, bloodied and moving quickly. Herman sits in a chair beside him, concentrating on patching him up, and muttering nonsense to himself. Watching him with interest, the constant, occasional sparks of Carter's Spark distracts Evan, strong hands continue to heal him. Of course, Herman catches on, moving a hand to the mask and stroking along the underside so that skin touches chin. He's thankful that the blush can't be seen until Herman speaks up.

 

"Take off that mask of yours."

 

Now Evan Macmillan isn't used to being ordered around by killers per say, especially considering that he likes to be the one in charge, dominant by nature. But blight has now ruined the pillow and sheet beneath him, it trickles and drips off of the mask and downward. Undoing the restraints around his hands and feet, Evan lets out a relieved sigh. Fumbling with the thing, he manages to take it off, the entire left side of his face has been mutilated and seeping with blight. Tiny shards of metallic pieces and shrapnel, much like those that pierce the skin over his shoulder, stick out and nearly cause Herman to fall out of his chair. One hand comes into contact with skin, sending a small electric shock throughout his chest, Evan groans as his body jolts upward due to the shock. A giggle makes him send a glare to the Doctor, brows furrow in anger and annoyance.

 

"Get this over with, Herman. I have things to do."

 

Another giggle, and the next shock isn't an accident. Hollering out in pain, Evan grasps both sides of the bed and grits his teeth, sending another glare at Herman. Giving a shrug of his shoulders and finishing up his work, he brushes both hands together and leans over Evan's chest. One pointer finger swipes across Evan's exposed nipple.

 

"You're saying that you don't want to spend just a moment of your time with me? What is it that you have to do? Modify bear traps as some sort of experiment? Spy on Meg Thomas in your spare time?"

 

He growls out, writhing when the Doctor gives his nipple a hard pinch. A smile spreading, his teeth showing when he sees Evan's reaction. Reaching both hands out, he wraps them around Herman's neck and gives him a small shake.

 

"This is not typical of an appointment, Doctor Carter."

 

"Oooh!"

 

His entire face lights up and his cheeks redden once he hears that, a beet color, he wags a finger at the other, standing tall and unclasping Evan's hands, backing away.

 

"You're right but I can't resist teasing you. I can't deny when you say my title, Evan."

 

Confusion streaks his features, the mask had fallen to the floor earlier.

 

"That's who you are though. Doctor Herman Carter. I don't understand your excitement over it."

 

"Oh! You truly have no idea to what I'm indicating then! You're not an oblivious man, Evan."

 

Still, he gives a tilt of his head, sitting up on the bed and sighing as he rubs a hand at his wrist. Mere inches away from his face within a flash, Herman's hand lightly pokes at the blight along his cheek. It sticks to his fingers when he pulls away, leaving a string of it connecting his fingers and the cheek. It breaks when he brings his fingers close to his face and examines them.

 

'Even without the mask and the grotesque scarring, Herman looks attractive.'

 

'What?!'

 

Cheeks heat up to an unbearable level, another giggle and a finger pokes at his unaffected cheek.

 

"Boop!"

 

Doubling over into a fit of giggles, Herman rests both hands along the side of the bed. Once he's done, he stands up, not bothering to wipe the tears away as he leans close to Evan's face. Tongue flicking out to run along his skin from his neck up to his cheek.

 

Evan flinches, eyes widening at the touch, strangely enough, he doesn't pull away. Breaking contact and grinning widely, a hand brushes across his scarred ear, yet another giggle falls from his lips.

 

The moment the Doctor steps back, Evan stands to his feet and sighs, blight soiling the linoleum below as he reaches for his mask but doesn't put it back on just yet.

 

"Thank you, Herman. Although I'm not sure if your method of treatment was the right way to go about it."

 

A hand rests atop his muscular shoulder, giving it a painful squeeze, small electric shocks send tiny shivers up and down his spine. Evan wonders if it's on purpose, mask now sitting on the bed behind him.

 

"Leaving so soon? I was just getting started."

 

"I have traps to set and Meg to see."

 

"What was that, handsome?"

 

"Doctor Carter I-"

 

"Shh..."

 

A finger finds its way to his lips, his smile fading slightly, face now mere inches away. Herman whispers loud enough for him to hear.

 

"If you're going to use my title, whisper it to me."

 

Those cheeks of his become a beet red and Evan moves so that his mouth is close to Herman's ear, lips ghosting over the earlobe.

 

"Doctor Carter."

 

A second and Herman practically pushes Evan back down on the bed, his chest brushing against the other male when lips crash into his own. His other hand grabs ahold of Evan's, legs still planted to the floor, his upper body now resting against Evan.

 

A breath of air as they part, chests rising and falling as they regain their breath, Herman moving over and downward to kiss along his jaw and the hollow of his neck. Dry lips pressing hard into the flesh with want and need, his hands intertwining with Evan's. One hand pushes against Herman's, ceasing the affections and Evan turns to leave, taking the mask with him. Blight continues to make a mess over the flooring, a heavy sigh leaves Herman's lips as he steps back.

 

"Until next time, Evan."

 

"Of course, Doctor Carter."

 

That title had been whispered again, causing another shiver to roll down the Doctor's spine, a wide grin returns.

 

With a wave behind his head, Evan replaces his mask and walks on out of the small room.

Chuckling darkly, he adjusts the mask and walks down the maze of hallways and corridors, shoulders rising and falling with each chuckle.

 

 

 

 _'Next time can't come soon_ _enough...'_


	14. Regarding Leatherface...

 

I know Thomas Hewitt (I hope I spelled that correctly.) isn't in Dead by Daylight. However, I'd be willing to add him to this oneshot book if anyone requests for it. :3


	15. If That’s All It Takes - Michael Myers X Laurie Strode -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie gets in some trouble and Michael helps her out of it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No incest in this chapter, just protector!Michael. Also, I know that this chapter isn’t a killer X killer chapter, but sill.
> 
> Enjoy!

it had been some time since she last saw him, had never let her guard down ever since that fateful showdown on Halloween. It didn't matter whether he was here or back in Haddonfield, she knew he wouldn't change, nothing could ever change him from the monster he had became. Even if a spider crab thing influenced him to sacrifice his own sister. Claudette had asked Laurie to search for more amaranth in this area, she had been looking for awhile now and was certain that she was lost. Rustling in the near distance had caught her attention, making her stand up and look around, halting her efforts to look for the plant. 

 

"Who's there?"

 

Of course, she gets no response, sending bad signals and making her back away completely from her little search area.

 

"This was probably a bad idea."

 

She'd spoken aloud, not expecting for someone to respond back.

 

"You're right about that, girlie."

 

More rustling and a figure hops out of their hiding place, hunting knife in hand, a crudely drawn on mask sits upon their face, a hooded jacket wrapped around their frame.

 

The Legion.

 

"I don't know about you but I'm pretty pissed off. When Joey had been killed by that bastard, I had a feeling I'd have to do something about it."

 

Giving a shrug of his shoulders, he leaps over to her, reaching a hand out to grab at her arm. She screams and tries to tug it away but his grip tightens, nails digging into her skin, another scream.

 

"Looks like I'm literally taking it out on you."

 

The male laughs, throwing his head back like some campy horror movie antagonist, his shoulders rise and fall with his laughter.

 

Gritting her teeth and continuously trying to pull her arm away, Laurie grunts.

 

"What do you want?"

 

"I already told you what I want and that's to take it out on you."

 

"Who are you?"

 

"Who I am as a person doesn't matter. Just call me Legion."

 

A loud shriek rips past her lips, the knife he had been carrying slices across her arm, leaving a trail of blood to follow. The beads of crimson rise to the surface, she desperately tries to bring her arm close to her chest, but his grip is vice-iron.

 

Hoping that some other survivor will hear her, she screams out for help and the Legion brings his knife to her throat, pressing against her delicate skin but not enough to cause injury.

 

"Shut up!"

 

He doesn't let go, his knife still dangerously close, she takes notice of a figure standing behind a tree in the distance. A man, half of his body hidden behind said tree and the other half known to the woods.

 

'Michael? What's he doing here? Is this his idea of a good scare?'

 

Laurie has to laugh.

 

'Ha!'

 

As if giving her a good scare was worth it. She'd just slip away, far and out of his grasp so many times. Michael has done his fair share of giving her an infinite amount of good scares, ones that always included attempted murder. It crosses her mind if he was ever jealous of her when they were young. She doesn't remember much and grunts when she tries to reach beyond the limits of her memories.

 

The Legion lets go of her arm, Laurie gasps, Michael had snuck up behind the two and grabbed the other male roughly by the shoulder. His hand tight and nails dig into his jacket, turning around and lashing out at Michael, he yells when Michael stabs him in the shoulder. Watching with curiosity as the other scrambles off into the woods, running and limping as the footsteps recede into the night. Backing away from her brother, Laurie looks at him, he turns to face her, his knife now by his side. Tilting his head, he reaches a hand out, just as Laurie grits her teeth, her eyes filled with fire.

 

"You stay away from me, Michael!"

 

For a moment, she blinks. Did she hear a gasp behind that mask of his or was it simply her imagination?

 

His hand stops short from her injured arm.

 

'What else can he do to it besides stab me? Might as well take a chance.'

 

Giving in, she sighs and waves a hand at him.

 

"You can look but if you hurt me any more then I already am..."

 

Nodding, Michael grabs at her arm, surprisingly gentle, Laurie thinks as he carefully inspects the wound. Two fingers swipe away as much blood as possible, although all that's doing is smearing it into her skin. Appreciating the sentiment though, Laurie gives him a smile, proud to see his weapon fall to the ground beside him.

 

'At least he's not hurting me.'

 

With a soft grunt, Michael pulls her arm close to his chest, bringing her in for a hug. His hand letting go of her arm and both arms wrap around midsection, Laurie gives a grunt of her own when he squeezes a bit too tight for comfort.

 

"Hey, now! Easy, Michael."

 

Pressing a hand to his chest, she lightly pushes against him and he huffs, letting her go, his masked face looking at her.

 

"Thank you for saving me, Michael. I'm having trouble finding a plant though, one that'll help me in future trials. It's sort of around here, I think."

 

Another nod, he takes her hand in his and leads the way.

 

At least two minutes later...

 

Laurie can't hide the short-lived chuckle that falls from her lips at Michael looking at the ground for this plant.

 

"Y'know, Michael. It's a flower to be exact, one that has healing properties. I think it was Claudette who-"

 

She stops mid sentence.

 

'He has no idea who Claudette is.'

 

Shaking her head and sighing, Laurie continues to watch her brother look for the thing. It seems like an hour has past, and Michael finally emerges from a shrub with a fistful of the flower. Roots had been completely ripped up and out of the ground, clumps of dirt surround the base of the flowers he's carrying. Handing them to her, she gives a small smile.

 

"Thank you, Michael."

 

He nods vigorously and takes her hand, leading her out of the area of the woods and hopefully back to the campfire. Although it takes longer for them to get back, Laurie has to try not to drop the flowers, Michael has to hide in between trees to avoid being seen. They eventually make it back, and Michael is hidden behind another tree, Laurie turns to face him.

 

"That was kind of you. Thank you."

 

Another nod and Michael lowers his head, Laurie reaches a hand out to stroke her fingers along the mask, her smile slightly fading.

 

"You should go, I don't want the others to see you. Be careful now."

 

She swears she can hear him chuckle, his shoulders slightly bouncing with his movements. Another minute passes and she finally pulls her hand away, turning away from him to go join her fellow survivors at the campfire.

 

Michael leaves, but her voice makes him turn back around.

 

“Hey! See you next trial!”

 

With a thumbs up that makes her laugh, Laurie turns back around and jogs on over to sit down in the dirt. Dwight glances over at her and sighs.

 

“We were worried that you’d been hurt during your hunt for plants.”

 

When she shows him her arm, his entire face turns a ghostly white and Claudette rushes over with a med kit in hand.

 

“Here, let me fix that.”

 

Laurie smiles to herself, even as Claudette’s fingers slip through blood as she tends to Laurie’s wound.

 

 

 

_‘If that’s all it takes, then the next few trials should be interesting...’_


	16. Sparks in the Shadows - Doctor X Wraith -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herman gets a visit from Philip, and Philip gets something else in return...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wailing Bell isn’t the only thing that gets banged in this chapter. *Insert Lenny face here.*

Léry’s Memorial Institute

 

 

It had been some time since he last saw Evan Macmillan, although the appointment ended "excellent" on his terms, he did wonder what Evan thought about it. Maybe that was the reason why he hadn't seen him here since? Sure, they'd speak around the campfire and spoke of the details of their respective trials. There had been one other killer who Herman had inadvertently caught the eye of: Philip Ojomo.

 

That bastard!

 

Oh! How Herman seethed with rage just seeing him! How his annoying bell had woken him in the night whenever he decided to sleep near the fire. That sobbing he would hear from time to time if he poked and snuck around the nearby woods, seeing the shadow hunter leaning against a tree. The stench he'd bring with him, of a metallic, blood, and pine. Of course, the tiniest amount of natural masculine musk had snuck its way up and into his nostrils, causing his cheeks to redden whenever he took a deep inhale. Philip had noticed but if Herman had been paying attention, he sure didn't see Philip make any gestures towards it. The best thing he could do was ignore his possible feelings towards the other killer, besides Herman had duties to attend to.

 

Another stack of medical papers had been neatly piled and put away, his apparatus sat on his desk in front of him, lights buzzed and flickered all around him. Again, he wonders when he'll see Evan again, it's strange to him, like a foreign feeling in his chest. Blooming like a flower, his heart rate picked up speed, chest tightening, Herman growls out and brings a hand over his heart, clawing at his coat. Tossing the thing on his desk, he stands up and walks over to the syringes that sat neatly on a small, metal table. A bottle of chloroform sits next to said syringes, he grabs the thing and inspects it, eyes surveying over the tiny text, his eyelids unnaturally drooped over. He had to bring an index finger and thumb to forcefully hold both eyelids open.

 

A half empty bottle.

 

Nearly shattering the thing as he sets it down, another growl leaves his lips. Now donning a black vest, button up shirt, and black tie, his matching black slacks looked good on himself if he thinks so himself. Letting his hand fall to the side, he widens his eyes so he can see, turning his back to the table and looking out of this room and into the hall.

 

It takes him a second to register, a shimmering form of light surrounds a figure as they move further into the room. Gritting his teeth and mumbling nonsense to himself, Herman reaches for the stick, holding it within both hands as he generates a powerful electric current along the weapon. Sparks of electricity surround his hand and the thing as he cautiously makes his way over towards the wall. Another shimmer of light, the figure rematerializes right in front of him, causing him to leap back, a sort of orange surrounds the killer as they make themselves known to the Doctor. His teeth hurt, his gums burn with an intensity like no other and his eyes burn without so much as a few blinks. Bloodshot and coupled with permanent bags under his eyes, Herman raises his weapon high above his head, bringing it down over Philip's own, and effectively rendering him unconscious. The Wailing Bell falls to the floor with a heavy thud and loud ring, he doesn't bother to pick it up, Philip does the same, falling to the linoleum, eyes wide open and glassy, staring into nothingness. If one hadn't known better, they would've thought he was dead, Herman bends down and heaves him over a shoulder, like in a trial.

 

'But nothing like a trial at all, one with a twist.'

 

He thinks to himself, letting out a few giggles and rearing his head back like some horrible, campy mad scientist. With a soft grunt, he carries Philip over to a bed and drops him, making haste to restrain him before he can regain consciousness. Hands, feet, and waist are all tied, restraints that had been used on the most violent of patients during his time. Or so he remembers at least, not everything can be brought back to memory, fingers pull at the pillow, he brings Philip's head up and setting it down with surprising gentleness. For a moment, he considers letting Philip regain consciousness on his own, but he waves a hand dismissively and sets the stick back on his desk.

 

Grasping Philip's shoulders and shaking him against the bed, he watches as the Wraith opens his eyes, baring his teeth and snarling like some sort of mad dog. All Herman does is giggle, moving his hands away to stroke his fingers along the jawline, hoping that it soothes Philip. It does work, to his surprise, he moves his fingers down to his chin, a frown set upon his features. Philip struggles against the restraints, his mouth open, soft whimpers fill the room. Herman leans in to listen, not close enough for Philip to bite him, if he wanted to; he moves that hand to his chest, feeling the faint heartbeat rapidly thrum against his hand. Philip's eyes are full of both confusion and fear, Herman can see that Philip is uncomfortable.

 

"Shh, I know. I had to do this in case you decided to harm me, Philip."

 

A shake of the head and Herman quirks a nonexistent brow.

 

"Oh? You hadn't come here to harm me?"

 

Philip lets out a series of soft trills, "explaining" his situation, to which Herman has no idea what he was trying to converse.

 

"I'm going to take an educated guess and say that you had wanted to see me. Do you have an appointment? Did you speak with Tanya at the front desk?"

 

No, of course he hadn't spoken with her. Philip did not possess the ability to speak (It sparked Doctor Carter's interest if he had been able to outside of the Entity's realm.) and Tanya had been brutally murdered by his own hand a very long time ago. Still, one has to entertain the patient somehow, right? Another set of giggles and Herman is undoing all of the restraints, helping Philip to sit up on the bed, scooting him down near the edge of it.

 

"My apologies, Philip."

 

One nod lets Herman know that he's fine now. His whimpering has ceased, his teeth no longer bared, and his heartbeat had returned to its normal faint state.

 

Two shakes of 'No' had let Herman know that he did not have an appointment and he already knew the answer to the second question before Philip answered.

 

"Now then."

 

A wicked, unsettling grin crosses Herman's features, his hands clutching Philip's shoulders, backing him up to the nearest wall and breathing heavily. Chest rising and falling with each breath, Herman cups Philip's cheek, his face mere centimeters away, his tongue sweeping along his lips.

 

"You're here to see me and I know exactly what you're here for. You see, I've known for some time now, that I've caught your attention. So tell me..."

 

He leans into the crook of Philip's neck and inhales deeply, a mix of blood, woodsy, and ink flow through his nostrils. Moving back to look at him, he lazily runs his hand up and down Philip's cheek, that grin still there.

 

"Is it my physique? My overwhelming presence? Or am I simply interesting enough that you had to risk coming here in order to seek me out?"

 

Three. Three slow nods to confirm all three of those questions leaves Herman giggling again, a few tears fall down his cheeks and Philip gives a tilt of his head. Reaching a hand out to swipe away at them, Carter smacks his hand away.

 

"I'm not crying! I'm fine!"

 

Practically roaring, Herman growls, and presses his lips against Philip's. Dry, mud caked, and chapped, the Wraith widens his eyes at the sudden move, closing his own and leaning his body against Herman's. Bold enough and daring, Philip reaches down in between Herman's legs and grips Herman through his slacks, causing him to choke out in surprise and break the kiss. Lips bruised and panting, that grin seems to widen and he repeats the action, grabbing Philip through the bandages and giving his huge length a painful squeeze. Another lick of the lips makes him giggle again.

 

"Your intentions are more then crystal clear."

 

Pointing a finger at him and then himself, Philip gives a short croak.

 

"Of course. I'd be more then willing to happily oblige."

 

Hands explore and roam as they both resume their... intimate activity, a gasp and Herman brings Philip flush against him, backing away from the wall with an arm around his torso.

 

"Take that filthy thing off."

 

Obeying, he backs out of Herman's touch and disrobes, removing the cloak to reveal a slightly broad chest. The bandages are next, fingers fumbling and small snarls as he hastily removes and unwraps them from around his waist and below. Meanwhile, Herman has discarded his vest, undone the tie and first two buttons of his shirt, his shoes and socks follow. The slacks, shirt, tie, and socks are all neatly folded and placed in his chair. The shoes sit underneath his desk, a devious grin, fingers slightly twitching.

 

"A shame we can't put my desk to good use."

 

Like a survivor to a chest, Philip bounds for Herman, his hand gripping and stroking the Doctor, barely able to wrap his hand around it. He has to use both, dropping to his knees in front of him, all while Herman sighs and gasps as he backs against his desk and sits down. Spreading his legs apart to grant him better access, he shivers when Philip attempts to take him entirely. A gasping breath, eyes closing and head rearing back in the pure bliss of it all.

 

"Take... your... time..."

 

In between gasping breaths, Herman places a hand behind Philip's, reveling in the way his tongue swipes and twirls around the head of his cock.

 

"Faster!"

 

Chest slightly rising, Herman bites his lip, blood rushes through the small cut and coats his teeth.

 

"Oh! Entity!"

 

Another swipe from that delicious tongue, he wonders why he had despised him before. It probably had something to do with that damn bell of his. He's lifting his hips and thrusting against Philip's mouth, fucking him quickly, Philip chokes when Herman deepthroats him.

 

"I'm close!"

 

Another minute of those intense movements causes him to still his body, muscles strain and his legs still. A huge amount of thick cum fills Philip's throat, he tries to swallow it all, and when he moves away, he has to wipe away some that had gotten on his cheek. Rising to his feet, Philip brings a hand to his shoulder and scratches at it. Satisfied and smiling, Herman grabs Philip's head with both hands and kisses him with a sudden ferocity. Breaking contact, Herman falls before Philip, not bothering to ask him before he takes that cock and practically shoves it in his mouth.

 

Wide eyes and a surprised trill, Philip quickly grasps Herman's shoulder, fingers digging into his skin as Herman goes to town on him. Completely ignoring his own gag reflex, Herman repeatedly forces Philip's shaft down his throat, his hands resting against his hips. Pulling back slightly, he runs his tongue all along the side and around the head, looking up at Philip for any sort of reaction. Those eyes are slightly wide still, lips pursed in an 'o' of pleasure, another second passes and Herman grips his hips, moving one away to run his fingers along Philip's hand. It doesn't take long for him to be sent over the edge, a fitting reward for what he just offered Herman.

 

Swallowing all that he gives him, Carter backs off, gasping deeply for air as he stands up, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. Another grin replaces that frown of his, he raises a hand and points in the direction of the bed.

 

"On the bed. Now."

 

He practically hisses, quick to not let the distance between the two to close, his feet on Philip's heels as they both head over to the bed. Once Philip's back is pressed firmly against the thing, Herman hastily moves to restrain his ankles, a smirk replaces the grin in a heartbeat. Climbing on top of the other male, he spreads his legs apart and pushes the head of his cock against Philip's entrance. Eyes screw shut immediately at the strange and foreign intrusion, his mouth twisting into a painful grimace as a loud and ear piercing roar fills the room. More roaring and growling causes Herman to cover his ears in an attempt to save his hearing, blood trickles down his shaft, coating the bed below as he pushes further into Philip's tight warmth. A hand gently caresses Philip's cheek, knuckles brushing over his jawline.

 

"I know it hurts, I know."

 

He doesn't move any further once he's in all the way, allowing the male beneath him to adjust to his girth. Once he sees Philip's expression soften and eyes open to make contact, he begins to move at a brutal pace, hips snapping against leaner ones, his thighs slap against 'skin' as sweat begins to form across his forehead. Hands fly to firmly grip Philip's shoulders, teeth gritting as the sensation of the warmth surrounding his cock overwhelms him. Pushing his hips against Herman's, Philip sighs contently as he lifts his hips up off the bed, a hand snakes between them to grip his length. Shoving it away, Herman takes Philip's length in his hand and strokes him, his pace slowing down as he gasps.

 

"Let me do it, Philip."

 

And he does, pumping him faster, his pace picks back up, fingers sliding against the length, he presses his chest against him. Bearing his weight down on the other male as he continues to thrust, hitting Philip's prostate makes him growl. With his hand still working at Philip, Herman makes eye contact again, his eyes sparkling with excitement, biting his lower lip. He groans and stills, his back arching as he fills Philip up, another set of groans and heavy breathing once he finishes. Muscles straining, his thighs feel numb as he pulls out and stands to his feet, albeit nearly losing his balance in doing so. Grasping Herman's wrist, Philip turns his head to look at him, Herman's seed spilling out of his stretched hole and onto the bed. A desperate, silent plea in his eyes, his hold on Herman's wrist tightens, his feet are starting to ache from the restraints. Those eyes widen when he releases, short breaths fall from his lips, his chest heaving as he closes his eyes, a few grunts here and there. The entirety of Herman's hand is a mess, as is Philip's stomach and thighs, the Doctor bends forward and begins to clean him up. Tongue sweeping across the skin, all while Philip's hand leaves the Doctor's wrist and cradles the back of Herman's head. Once that’s all done, he licks his hand clean as well.

 

After a few good minutes of reprieve, Herman stands back up and smirks, walking over to the foot of the bed and undoing the restraints around Philip's ankles. A giggle startles him, prompting him to sit up once he has his ankles back, he watches Herman curiously when he walks back over to him.

 

"Come back for your checkup next time, Philip. Your physical seems in tip top shape."

 

Another giggle, a finger pokes at Philip's member, making him squint at the Doctor. Moving away, Philip stands and redresses, Herman takes his time, finally placing his shoes back on after a few minutes. He walks over to a small sink and washes his hands, putting on hand sanitizer after drying them off.

 

“Next time though...”

 

Herman wags a finger at him, his smirk still there.

 

“You can make me the bottom.”

 

The tiniest smirks crosses Philip’s features, and Herman notices it.

 

“See you soon.”

 

As he walks on out, elated and smiling, Philip nods to himself.

 

 

 

_‘What a thrilling and entirely new experience.’_


	17. An Unnerving Curiosity - Frank Morrison | The Legion X The Trapper -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank gets curious, only to be swiftly turned away...

The Macmillan Estate 

 

 

It had been some time before he worked up the courage, before he decided, before he knowingly stepped foot into the Macmillan Estate. Sure, Frank had been shaken from his last encounter with another killer - two killers he reminds himself as he sneaks behind a tree and crouches. His knees slightly pressed against his chest, without a weapon, this could turn deadly. After all, Frank had no idea if Evan was even here, for all he knew, he could be sitting at the campfire. Standing up and cautiously moving away from his hiding spot, Frank dashes on over to the shack dead ahead, his shoes softly press into the grass beneath him.

 

As he reaches the window and quietly vaults over it, he curses under his breath, turning around to look down at a corner of his jacket. It was caught by a nail, and he reaches a hand out to move the fabric around it. It's stuck, he cuts his finger across the nail and brings it to his face, bright crimson shines within the moonlight, it trickles down his skin. With a frustrated grunt, Frank yanks on the jacket and pulls, effectively ripping off the piece of fabric and ignoring the small amount of blood trickling down his finger. Gritting his teeth due to the pain, Frank ventures down into the basement, checking behind his shoulder just for good measure.

 

'So far, so good...'

 

Until the sound of a heartbeat unlike his own invades his ears, pounding and loud, each beat sounds as if it's more thunderous then the last. Heavy footfalls make their way down the steps, Frank makes haste to hide behind a thin wall, one where the lockers sit on one side and the chest sits near the corner in the other. The thought of hiding in a locker comes to him but he decides against it, besides, he's still not wearing his own mask.

 

"What are you doing here?"

 

That voice sends shivers up and down his spine, he jumps and inadvertently bumps his head into Evan's chest, his figure shaking as he stumbles back into the wall and averts his eyes to the killers face.

 

Evan leans close to Frank, masked face mere centimeters away from his own. His breath reverberates throughout the thing, hot and heavy, it puffs out and hits Frank's nostrils.

 

He thinks, hands trembling from fear, he swiftly wipes the blood on the wall and doesn't dare look away.

 

What is he doing here?

 

 

Finally, he musters what little courage he has and speaks up.

 

'Really though? How can he expect me to answer him when he's just turned me into a little bitch? The man is absolutely terrifying!'

 

Gulping, Frank speaks up.

 

"I'm just curious. That's all."

 

Of course, Evan doesn't back away, his breath still wafting out of the mask, the muscles within his shoulders and biceps strain, the smell of sweat invades Frank's nostrils.

 

"About what?"

 

"What you do outside of trials."

 

A sharp exhale, a hand finds Frank's throat, fingers grasping skin as Evan moves his head back. Gasping, Frank grabs ahold of the hand, desperately trying to unclasp the fingers currently wrapped around his neck.

 

"Let go!"

 

He manages to choke out in between gasps, the hold on his neck tightens, Evan leans close to his face again.

 

"You're intruding on my privacy. Leave."

 

Finally, that hand releases its hold on him, and the burly man backs away, giving Frank his space to do what he just told him.

 

Allowing himself some time to calm down his rapid heartbeat, Frank places a hand over his chest, letting out deep breaths as he pushes himself off of the wall with his other hand. With a grunt, Evan makes his way back up the stairs, Frank hastily catches up with him, taking two steps at a time. He takes a chance and grasps Evan's arm, fingers wrapping around thick muscle and skin. Turning his head and staring, Evan gives a growl, huffing softly.

 

"I'm not leaving until you tell me."

 

A second passes and the Trapper leans dangerously close to Frank's face, heat radiating from the mask. Instead of saying anything further, Evan clutches Frank's hand, his filthy fingers dig and scratch at skin as he unclasps the hand and walks off. His usual stomping resuming once he's out of the shack, the moonlight shining down on his towering figure, his shadow seems to take a life of its own in the darkness when he turns.

 

"You'll get no second chance. Not here, not ever."

 

A loud gulp and Frank realizes that there's no getting through to him.

 

'If the dumb brute doesn't want to talk then I might as well leave.'

 

A sigh falls from his lips as he too turns and heads back out of the shack and back towards the direction he came.

 

"It was a mistake to come here in the first place."

 

Rustling and a couple footfalls makes him turn on his heels, his heart practically leaping out of his chest when he's met face to face with the Trapper.

 

"You're right. Now leave."

 

"What? Is the Entity's favorite upset about something?"

 

Clenching his hands into fists, Frank struggles with his anger, although his body shudders with every second his spends here. Evan growls, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes.

 

A hand grabs Frank's throat, fingernails digging into the flesh, his face quickly reddens as he raises both hands to claw at Evan's wrists.

 

"Let... go!"

 

He chokes out, the veins within his forehead showing as he continues to struggle, the mask closing the distance.

 

"Don't show disrespect now, filth. You've been here awhile now, so I'll let you go. But next time..."

 

He unclasps his hand from Frank's neck and steps back, the heat from his body radiating off of him like a furnace.

 

"Next time I'll kill you."

 

And that's when Frank takes his time to gag and cough as well as catch his breath, before he finally turns around and runs like hell out of the Macmillan Estate.

 

Frank scoffs, smiling while he holds a hand to his throat, letting out a few forced chuckles. Despite his pounding heart that feels as though it's about to leap forth from his chest, Frank continues running into the darkness.

 

 

 

 

_If there's one thing he learned from this experience, it's that you don't fuck with Evan Macmillan._


	18. Make your Trap - Trapper X Pig -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda and Evan get their revenge, Detective Tapp gets nothing but pain...

"Damn it!" 

 

Amanda slammed her fist against the table and slumped down in her chair in defeat. It had been at least two hours of nonstop working on her latest modification for a reverse bear trap, but she has having a problem getting the thing to actually... reverse. Immediately, thunderous footfalls alert her to turn her head towards the giant male who made his unnerving presence known - Evan Macmillan, the Trapper. Making his way through the large room where Amanda kept a table cluttered with schematics, blue prints, designs for traps, and numerous pencils. No one would've thought that the two killers often spoke to each other over their traps and modifications to said traps.

 

A calloused hand rests upon her shoulder, she turns back around in her chair and sighs, bringing a hand to run through her hair.

 

"It's this trap."

 

She points a finger down at the failure of a contraption.

 

"It won't reverse. Do you think you could help me? I was hoping to use it on Detective Tapp soon. He's been extra toxic lately, stalking me and I want to teach him and the other survivors a lesson."

 

A nod and his hand is removed from her shoulder, resting down by his side.

 

"I'd be more then happy to help you, Pig."

 

"Hey! Just because those survivors gave me that pathetic nickname doesn't mean that you can call me that!"

 

Amanda points a finger at him and growls softly. Evan huffs and places his hand over the table, leaning close to take a look at the schematics.

 

"Besides, it's Amanda Young."

 

"I know. I'll help you but you have to let me have my fun as well during the next trial."

 

A smile crosses her features and she gives a curt nod.

 

"It's a deal."

 

Gideon Meat Plant - The Game

 

 

Although two killers within the same trial was forbidden by the Entity (Something about it being 'fair prey, fair play.') their hatred for a certain Detective Tapp had roused the Entity's interest. As such, both Amanda and Evan were allowed just this once to team up in a trial.

 

"I'm going to go find Tapp, you go mess with the other survivors."

 

As they give final nods to each other, both killers head off into separate directions, Evan hauling a bag around filled with trap setters, and extra traps. Amanda with a rusted blade and modified reverse bear traps (Thanks to Evan's helpful guidance.) her hand grips the weapon tightly as she carries her traps in a backpack, the weight feeling more then uncomfortable.

 

 

What feels like fifteen minutes later...

 

Nea's screams could be heard all throughout the area, Evan stomps over to her hunched over form, fingers slipping past the blood to try to free herself from the trap. Of course, Evan picks her up and unceremoniously hauls her over his shoulder, making haste to lift her up with ease and shove her down on a hook. Eyes gleam with excitement once he sees the hook pierce through her shoulder, her blood seeping through and immediately soaking her clothes. Setting down a few traps near the hook, Evan stomps off into the opposite direction, in search of Detective Tapp, but a scream is heard and he is so quick to look around that the bones in his neck slightly crack.

 

That felt good...

 

Leaving Nea behind and following the direction of the scream, Evan rounds the corner and drops into the opening below, his feet land hard against solid concrete. Glancing about to try and listen out for the other survivor. Another scream and he's picked up speed, at least two others had been sacrificed. That leaves the two killers with just Nea and Detective Tapp, Amanda had success with her new modified reverse bear traps so far. The timers had been tampered with, effectively shortening the amount of time a survivor had. That made finding a jigsaw box and removing the thing a more hectic objective, she'd been sneaking far behind to see if they've been working.

 

Rounding a corner in the basement, Evan could see that a survivor was healing themselves, thanks to A Nurse's Calling, they would've been done if they hadn't missed a skill check and cried out. With startling speed, Evan marches over to them and brings his cleaver down on their back, a sickening crunch of bone can be heard and an ear piercing scream follows. It's Detective Tapp, and he's lying on the dirty floor, given up and accepting his fate, he doesn't bother to struggle when Evan picks him up and over his shoulder. Instead of shoving him on a hook though, the Trapper heads out of the basement and eventually back up stairs. It was at this time where Nea had been sacrificed and Amanda had rushed over to the two males, not bothering to grab a reverse bear trap out of her backpack.

 

"Let him down, will you?"

 

A grunt and Evan swivels around to face her, setting Detective Tapp down and gesturing towards him with his weapon.

 

Amanda takes the backpack off and Evan removes the bag he's been carrying, the survivor yells out at them both.

 

"You fucks! What are you going to do? Mori me?"

 

"Actually, we had something else in mind instead."

 

A devilish smile spreads over Amanda's features and she places the reverse bear trap on him, all while Evan gets to work on setting a bear trap in front of the survivor. Bending down and leaning close, Evan whispers in his ear.

 

"Crawl to it."

 

"Fuck you!"

 

A hard kick to his back scoots him close enough so that his hand triggers the trap, the incessant beeping drowns out his own frantic heartbeat. A scream rips its way out of his throat and the teeth of the trap don't allow him to move his hand any further.

 

"See what happens when you're too toxic and stalk me! This is what happens!"

 

Amanda shouts out, bringing her shoe down on his neck so that he crashes into the cold, concrete beneath him. Sputtering out blood, he manages to say something in between sobs.

 

"I'm glad I got to you then."

 

A cough.

 

"You can't handle arrogance."

 

Evan decides to swing his cleaver and bring it down over his back, slashing at the shirt to reveal sliced skin, blood and muscle showing after a few good slashes.

 

"Ahhhh!"

 

"I'll bet you'll think twice about stalking me next time."

 

Shuddering and sobbing, Tapp frantically tries to pry open the bear trap with his other hand, but a boot comes crashing down on it, the sickening crunch of bones causing Tapp to scream bloody murder.

 

"I don't think so."

 

Evan growls lowly, a warning but Tapp could care less because the beeping has sped up and now both killers are just peering down at him like two very disappointed parents.

 

It doesn't last long, his suffering, it ends just a minute later when the reverse bear trap does its job. A sight that's beautiful in their eyes when they gather their things and haul their bags over their respective shoulders. Not saying a word when they're both transported back to the campfire, Amanda goes to sit on a log, Evan decides to lean up against a strong tree. He lets out one exhausted sigh, looking up at the starless sky, Evan closes his eyes and exhales.

 

 

 

_'If it happens again, I'll burn an ebony memento mori.'_


	19. Sing with Me - Kate X Huntress -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate’s cornered... until one thoughtful idea comes to her mind. The end result? A promise she plans to keep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Kate Denson, which we all know is not a killer. But I thought that having her included was a good addition to this book.

Kate lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head and wondering where everyone else was, she'd been separated from the others. 

 

"It's not a big deal. All I have to do is repair one more generator and escape, right?"

 

She spoke aloud to no one as she crouched and headed over to a generator in a small killer shack. It had been at least half way done, well, from what she could tell anyway. Quickly getting to work, she glances over her shoulder every once in awhile to look out for her. It was the Huntress and she'd been extra vicious today. A few screams had been heard and she nearly misses a skill check, swearing out loud.

 

"Damn! I nearly missed that one!"

 

Another scream and she could see from an aura that the person was put on a hook for a third time. That had left just her and Ace, the other two survivors had been sacrificed. Shaking it off, she gets back to work, the generator was nearly done.

 

"Come on... almost there."

 

Kate whispers as her hands slip over the oil, covering her hands in the stuff, she wrinkles her nose at the smell. She always hated the stench of oil, but working on a generator forced her to deal with it.

 

'Well, at least I'm almost done here.'

 

Not even two seconds later, the generator hummed to life, and unfortunately, Ace had been incapacitated. His scream breaking throughout the entire area, Kate heads out of the shack, he was kind of far from her position and she makes her way near him. But another scream rings out and she gasps as she peeks around a corner to see him get mori'd.

 

'No!'

 

Tears immediately fall down her cheeks and she crouch walks away from what just happened. Now more then ever, she wishes she had her guitar to help sooth her frazzled nerves.

 

'This had been a good trial too. I might as well try to find the hatch.'

 

Sighing, Kate decides to stay hidden as much as possible and stay near the walls.

 

'Where's the Huntress? I hope she hasn't picked up my trail.'

 

Sometimes, certain killers would be able to spot survivors more often then they should be able to. She guess it mist be some sort of hidden power certain killers have over others. The soft hum of the hatch practically makes her ears perk up, like wind howling, the black mist seemed to crawl put of the hatch. Climbing up the small hill, she sits down beside the thing and cries.

 

'I'm sorry Ace. I should've helped you.'

 

The tears continue to fall, she doesn't even bother to wipe them away.

 

A thought came to her mind: She really missed playing some tunes on her guitar. The soft sounds of the notes flowing out and surrounding her calmed her down, happy to play for her family and be away from the spotlight for a while. As if on cue, the familiar black mist of the Entity surrounds her form, an object seems to appear from nowhere within her lap and she catches it before it can make contact with the ground. An acoustic guitar, not one nearly as nice and beautiful as the one she has back home, but still... It brings a warm smile to her face and for some unknown reason, she gets the urge to start playing.

 

Propping it up on her lap and placing her hand over the strings, Kate gives them an experimental glide.

 

'Not as beautiful as the one I remember back home, but it's better then hearing constant screams.'

 

Another smile as she begins to play Windows of Opportunity, one of her personal favorites. Of course, she never thought she'd take a liking to one of her own songs. After hearing it play on the radio stations and being at the Top forty for five weeks was enough to make her go mad.

 

'That's without the Doctor's "help". Thank you very much'

 

The humming is what makes her stop in her tracks, nearly causing her to break one of the strings as she stops to listen just to be sure.

 

'It's the Huntress, that's for damn sure.' Standing to her feet, she places the guitar over her back and gets ready to jump into the hatch. Seeing the killer move around the corner of rock makes her gasp, she isn't surprised though. It's what the killer does next that makes her not jump into the safety of the hatch.

 

Anna raises a hand to Kate, the universal signal for her to "Stop" and cautiously steps forward, as if she were approaching a frightened animal. Kate's legs are frozen to the spot, as if weights had been placed over her ankles. The Huntress points a finger at the guitar, tilting her head and intensifying her humming.

 

'She wants me to sing some more?'

 

Giving a shrug of her shoulders, Kate brings the guitar around and sits down by the hatch, placing the thing back in her lap and sighing. Before she begins though, Kate smiles and stands to her feet, watching Anna carefully as she makes her way from the hatch and over towards a stump. Meanwhile, the soft thud of footfalls lets her know that the Huntress has followed suit, not staying close, but close enough in case the survivor tries to make a run for it. Finally, Kate takes a seat on the stump, dropping the guitar back within her lap and adjusting the strings before strumming away. Windows of Opportunity drown out the low hum of the hatch, her voice carrying over the notes, her fingers gliding over the strings.

 

'At least she isn't trying to kill me.' Kate thinks as she allows herself to close her eyes just for a moment, her voice changing pitch when she continues to sing into the chorus. Anna takes a seat in front of her, setting her hatchets down beside her. Opening her eyes again, she brings her song to a close and breathes out a sigh of relief when Anna stands up, leaving the hatchets behind. She smiles down at Kate, speaking for what seemed like such a long time ago.

 

 

 

 

"Thank you, Kate."

 

Gasping, Kate stands to her feet, draping the guitar over her back once again and nodding.

 

"You're welcome. But... how do you know my name? And why haven't you spoken before?"

 

Anna makes a gesture towards the sky, her gaze falling to the hatch near them.

 

"The Entity prefers its servants not to speak during our trials. There are others who can't speak at all."

 

Grimacing, Kate backs away and chews on her lower lip. She gives a nod of understanding.

 

"I understand. It must feel terrible not having the ability to talk."

 

Thinking of a few, Kate lets a tear roll down her cheek.

 

'The Wraith would be one of those unfortunate ones, the Doctor too. I'm almost sure that the Nurse would also be one of those, and I can't see the Trapper talking. He was probably one of those people who kept to themselves and hated outsiders.'

 

"I've heard the others call you by that name."

 

"Right."

 

Kate nods, her curls bouncing with her movements, she smiles warmly.

 

"I should leave but thank you for listening."

 

An arm reaches out for her hand, grasping it tightly.

 

"Wait! Before you go, I want you to promise me you'll sing again next time."

 

Pulling her hand out of the Huntress' grip, Kate gives a nod.

 

"You have my word. I'll sing for you next time."

 

Another smile and Kate is heading over to the hatch, turning around and winking at the killer. Before she takes the dive though, she gives a quick farewell.

 

"Until next time."

 

 

 

_Anna smiles, soon returned to her own turf by the Entity's doing, her smile unwavering as she heads indoors and takes a seat near the fireplace. One last thing enters her mind before she closes her eyes for a short reprieve._

_'Until next time, indeed..."_


	20. Torture for Two - Nurse X Doctor -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herman and Sally take their time dealing with a survivor, and Herman takes his time dealing with something else...

It had been at least ten minutes since the survivor he captured and brought back after the trial to Léry's was still struggling to speak. A similar apparatus had been forcefully placed over his face, his eyes widened and held open by two metal slits, his mouth stretched into a grotesque grin. Much like the Doctor, who was breathing heavily and peering down at the man restrained to the chair, the stick held tightly within an iron grip, dripping with fresh blood. The man's kneecaps had been shattered, blood seeping through the fabric of his clothing, a few fingers were missing.

 

Raising a hand to his mouth, Herman carefully unclasps the mouth guards and sighs, his lips drooping at a disgusting and unnatural angle. Like something simple as smiling would still seem like he was frowning. Scratching at his scarred cheek, he sighs and turns away from his subject, smiling brightly and wheezing.

 

"Nurse Smithson!"

 

A floating figure enters the treatment theatre, her white wedding gown dragging across the floor as she makes her way over to him, her gasps and wheezing matching the Doctor's.

 

Placing a hand over his chest, Herman tries to widen his smile but it causes him some pain, so he sighs in defeat. His cheeks quickly turn scarlet as she nears him, standing mere inches away and glancing over at the subject. She hadn't worn her mask today, but a veil peeled back to reveal her face was a sight to see. Moving his hand away, Herman turns to the survivor and giggles, Sally just stands there.

 

"This patient needs treatment. Will you help me, Nurse?"

 

Staring down at the person, Sally gasps and places a hand over his wrist, gripping it tightly. The male manages to holler out a swear through his apparatus, sweat rolling down his forehead.

 

"You bitch! Let go of me!"

 

"Oh! That's no way to speak to my assistant, asshole!"

 

A hand connecting with his cheek leaves him wincing, a bright hand print will be left there, for certain. The Doctor practically growls, bending down and hovering over the male, he replaces the apparatus over his mouth, not saying a word as Sally begins to choke the man. Manic giggles and harsh breathing, along with frantic screaming and pleas fill the treatment theatre. When she moves her hands away, he lets out a deep gasp and grabs ahold of Sally's arm. That earns him a hard kick to the groin, her foot colliding with his clothing and he groans. Doctor Carter removes the slabs of metal from his mouth to speak, his hand shaking slightly.

 

"That's music to my ears! Oh, Sally! We should've killed him sooner."

 

Another giggle, another harsh intake of breath and he just wants this to be over, to end right here and now.

 

Mocking a pout, Sally turns to look at Herman, their gazes locked for a few seconds. He frowns again, moving to be closer to her, and bringing a hand to her face, his knuckles gently ghost over her delicate cheek. Leaning close to her mouth, he places a quick kiss and makes haste to back away and move back towards the survivor. Once again, he replaces his apparatus over his mouth and glares down on him, setting his weapon on the ground. Bending down to place her own weapon beside the Doctor's, Sally hesitates before hurting the survivor again, wondering if she should just leave the task to Herman.

 

Another sharp gasp and he's quickly removing the metal, tearing and ripping scarred flesh surrounding his mouth. Blood rolls down the corners, his teeth now covered in the scarlet liquid, he spits out some blood on the male and grunts.

 

"Sally, he'll be dead soon. This is the one who thought it was humorous to throw their medkit at you with every chance they were against you. Was it him that had tried to seduce you?"

 

His face contorts to anger, the flesh twisting and burning, Carter's Spark surging throughout the many tubes and wires that travel along his skin. More blood falls to the floor, the small tube that's inserted in his nose and travels downward towards his neck continuously pumps blood back into him.

 

Her face grows paler by the second, and Herman gasps once she faints, more agitated at himself for not catching her in time.

 

 

A few minutes later...

 

 

It had been at least some time before Sally came to, her head lolled to the side as she slowly opens her eyes and stares up at the ceiling. Herman immediately rushes over to her side, the IV needle within her arm moves when she tries to sit up, only to have a hand gently push on her shoulder. He had removed the apparatus completely, it sat on a counter behind him, the tubing through his nose still sending blood.

 

"No. You've fainted and I was well aware that it was because of my grotesque appearance. I've taken care of our patient, he's received his treatment."

 

A series of curses and screaming can be heard from not too far down the hall outside of this room. They were just around the corner from the treatment theatre, the same hand gives Sally's strands a few loving strokes. His fingers move a few of them behind her ear, a small smile crossing his features.

 

"Keep quiet, subject! You've no idea what you've brought upon yourself!"

 

The veins within his neck and forehead throb, his face twisted into one of rage, his hands begin to shake as he twirls around on his heels. Making a grab for the stick and stomping out of the room, Sally lets out a breathy gasp, her head lolling to the side again. Another set of screams echo throughout the treatment theatre and down the hallways, Herman's laughter follows after. Sally passes out, the machines beep in a steady rhythm.

 

 

"Sally?"

 

"Wake up."

 

A few seconds pass and she opens her eyes to see Herman leaning over her, his hand moving her hair behind her ear again. Her skin tingles and the hairs on her arm stand up as he rubs a hand over her pale skin. Small sparks travel downward once he reaches her hand and takes it. The IV had been removed from her arm and he helps her to sit up, dried blood covers his lips and teeth.

 

"The subject is unrestrained but don't worry, I won't let him harm you. Come, my Nurse."

 

Giggling, Herman helps her to her feet, she stumbles and groans, leaning her body against him.

 

"The medicine is still going to affect you, it'll be over soon."

 

Another giggle, a hand lazily brushes along her cheek, the veil is crooked as she readjusts it. They leave the room behind, slowly making their way down the hall and back into the theatre. Sally still pressing her body against him as they cross into the doorway. She speaks - barely above a whisper.

 

"He tried to."

 

One arm around her shoulders, the other down by his side, Herman glares over at the survivor. His apparatus had been removed, and he was a bloody mess. She exhales sharply, her mouth opening as if to speak, the male speaks up.

 

"What I'd do to that pretty mouth."

 

Stomping over to him, he quickly grabs ahold of electrodes, ripping the man's shirt apart to reveal his chest. He sticks them close to his heart, two more electrodes are placed upon his head, alongside his temples, he struggles. Bringing two more with him, he carefully untangles the cords and sets them onto the side of his headgear, where the metal meets his temples. Screams fill the room, the Doctor makes his way over to a machine, it looks as though it hasn't been used in ages.

 

"Now you will see, Miss Smithson."

 

He stares at her, that ugly smile stretched horribly, his eyes seem to sparkle with excitement. A hand rests over a small switch as she lifts her head to look at him.

 

"Two minds become one!"

 

Agonized screams surround the two males, both shuddering and trying to stay still as an electric current flows between the two. Not enough to kill but enough to cause pain, Herman strains to look back at Sally, her hands shaking as she desperately leans over a silver medical table. Her form hunched over and her head set downward at a disgusting angle. Through grunts, Herman struggles to turn the thing off, the survivor continues to scream throughout. It's as if it was a mere massage for Herman because he's back to giggling and being his insane self. Keeping the electrodes attached to the survivor's chest, he removes the apparatus from him and sets it aside on another table.

 

A hand strikes across the man's cheek, causing him to cry out, a red handprint appears within seconds. Two hands rest along the man's temples once again, charging up and releasing, the man twitching and screaming. Black smoke and blue light appears throughout the room, Herman leaves the man behind to rejoin Sally. The survivor screaming as sparks of electricity dance along his chest, practically surrounding his head, he begins to violently convulse.

 

Taking a delicate hand within his own, Herman stares, tearing the pieces of metal out of his mouth, blood drips down his chin. The tube still sending blood throughout his nose, Sally readjusts her veil once again.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

He asks with genuine concern, helping her to straighten out her back, an arm resting over her shoulders. A nod of understanding, she pushes a hand against his chest and leans forward, softly kissing his cheek. More screaming from the male and at this point Herman is fed up, his hand balling into a fist and releasing a surge of electricity. Still holding her hand, Doctor Carter mumbles something underneath his breath, bloody lips capturing hers as he swiftly pushes her so that her form rests against a wall. With the survivor frantically hollering out, each scream more terrifying then the last, his kisses become fervent.

 

A hand hastily makes its way up her dress, small, gentle sparks of electricity leave her skin with a tickling sensation. He delves into her mouth, tongue dancing along with hers as the room is once again filled with screams. The fingers along her thigh traces her slit through her undergarments, sending a small charge in hopes to stimulate. Sally's chest arches into his own, Herman breaks contact, the male near shouts out at the two but the Doctor ignores his cries. Grabbing ahold of her leg, he wraps it around his waist and grunts, grinning widely as he lets go and kisses along her neck.

 

As the survivor lets out one final scream, Herman captures her lips within his own once more, pressing his hips against hers.

_'Like I said earlier, music to my ears...'_


	21. Trapped in your Madness - Doctor X Trapper -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan gets more then he asks for when he goes to Herman’s office for his routine health requirement, A.K.A. a checkup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is all over the place...

"Where is he? I told him to be here after his trial." Herman mutters under his breath, shaking his head as he thumbs through a stack of dossiers and medical files. Setting them down neatly and standing up, he readjusts his tie and licks his lips, his apparatus sitting on the desk before him. Heavy footfalls put him on high alert, his senses heightened, nostrils flaring as he makes his way to the door and pushes it the rest of the way open. It had been cracked in hopes that Evan would soon return, after all, someone has to keep every killer in good health. Although, his methods of treatment had often included experimentations and insidious healthcare, Sally and Herman did their best. Those footsteps seem to become louder, a familiar burly figure makes themselves known when they exit another room.

 

"Doctor Carter, I just got out of a trial."

 

Raising a hand to Evan, Herman clears his throat, his voice curt.

 

"Save me the formalities, Evan. We have work to attend to. Come in, will you?"

 

Stepping aside, Herman places a hand over the doorknob and watches the other enter his office, casting a gaze at Evan's backside. An unsettling and wicked smile spreads over his lips, his hand lightly touching Evan's shoulder, making the man jump.

 

"Entity! Let's get this over with!"

 

"That's no way to speak to your doctor, you know."

 

"Keep your damn hands to yourself, Herman."

 

A giggle, drawn out, his smile seems to widen.

 

"That's impossible considering that this is a checkup, so I will be checking everything."

 

Another giggle, that same hand pressing against Evan's back, pushes him towards the desk.

 

"Stand there and let me get a few things."

 

Cursing under his breath, Evan awkwardly stands there, averting his attention elsewhere as Herman rushes over to a cupboard and opens it. Latex gloves, a stethoscope, and a pair of broken glasses with specks of dried blood, the Doctor humming as he walks back over to the other killer. Draping the stethoscope over the nape of his collar, and placing the gloves on, his hand fumbles to put his glasses back on.

 

"Now, lets begin."

 

Once again, he brings a hand to his tie, slightly loosening it and letting out a sigh. Grasping the end of the stethoscope, he carefully places it over Evan's heart, soon moving onward to his back and listening to his breathing.

 

"Good news."

 

Herman removes the stethoscope from his ears and smiles.

 

"You're not suffering from stridor. Now Sally... is quite unfortunate but in the Entity's realm, there's nothing that can be done."

 

Patting Evan's stomach and laughing, Herman lowers himself down on his knees and looks up at him. His head reaching his chest as he places a hand on top of Evan's knee.

 

"I have to check your reflexes."

 

Of course, there's no equipment in his hand and Evan speaks up about the obvious.

 

"You don't have anything to help you with that, Doctor Carter."

 

"Don't worry."

 

Balling his hand into a fist and pulling back, he delivers a punch to his kneecap, delighting in the howl of pain that fills the room. Another set of giggles follows after, along with another punch to his other kneecap.

 

Beefy hands desperately shove Herman onto his backside, grasping his knees and cursing.

 

"What the hell is your problem?!"

 

"Oops! I think I put a little too much pressure in that one."

 

More laughter rings out as he stands to his feet, dusting his lab coat off and humming.

 

"Now for our final exam. Go stand by my desk, now."

 

Groaning softly, Evan makes his way to the desk, crossing both arms over his broad chest and huffing.

 

"Hurry it up, Herman."

 

"Just a moment, Evan. Now strip."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

Walking over to the desk, Herman retrieves his apparatus and promptly places it back on. Eyes and mouth now forced open, he doesn't say a word but grabs his weapon and breathes heavily. Evan feels a little overwhelmed, so he quickly makes work of undressing, the Doctor disrobing once Evan's clothes drop to the floor. Sparks of electricity dance across his arms and hands, tubing and wires seem to be painfully embedded under his skin down the arms and across his chest. A well toned abdomen, dried blood covers his calves, an impressive length, his eyes practically sparkle with excitement as he strides over to Evan. A firm grip on his weapon, Herman stares the other killer down, all Evan does is look back at him.

 

"Is this part of my checkup, Doctor Carter?"

 

The Doctor brings an arm over his desk, sweeping the neat stacks of medical files to the floor, scattered and all. A single finger points to the desk, his breathing deepens as he steps aside to let Evan move. Reluctantly, he sits on top of the desk, sighing and shaking his head in disbelief as Herman drops to his knees in front of him.

 

"Now why did I expect anything less? Coming from you is not on my list of things to do today, but I'll take what I can get."

 

Setting the stick aside and leaning forward, Herman wraps a hand around Evan's dick, giving it a painful squeeze and proceeding to move his hand along the length. All the while, Evan's eyes are closed, spreading his legs apart and gripping the back of Herman's head, the other hand gripping the desk. Herman's other hand joins in, brushing it along his own dick and increasing the pace. A hard shove to Herman's head, dirty nails digging into the material of the apparatus, a groan as Evan throws his head back.

 

"Keep going, Doctor!"

 

He increases the pace for the both of them, fingers releasing charges of electricity as he strokes himself. Another series of groans, Evan's hips slightly lift off of the desk, causing it to creak under his weight. A firm slap to Evan's thigh brings him to a stop, glaring at the Doctor, who unwraps his hand around himself and stands up. Backing away from the trapper, Herman makes a motion for Evan to turn around and once he does, a hand shoves him down onto the desk. It creaks again as Herman lines himself up to Evan's ass.

 

"Wait! I-!"

 

Laughter and Carter's spark fills the room as Evan gets used to the crude invasion of his asshole. The head pushes further into him but that's as far as it goes before Herman pulls out. Letting out a sigh of relief, Evan lifts his head up from the desk to look at the other male, who has removed the clamps around his mouth.

 

"You're too tight but don't worry, I've got just the treatment for you."

 

Bending down to pick up the stick, Herman is quick to put the clamps back into place, another sick laugh falls from his engorged, stretched lips. A hand gives Evan's ass a harsh slap, the spiked weapon touching his shoulder blades, caressing the skin downward as he reaches his destination. Without so much as a warning, the weapon is forcefully shoved into him, another charge of electricity arches across the thing as it practically disappears within the killer. Beads of sweat, blood near his entrance, and loud cries of pain only edge Herman on further, slightly twisting the stick. Pulling it out, he bends down to take a look and stands to his full height, dropping his beloved weapon and pushing his dick into that ass. More shouts, Evan's legs shudder underneath the abuse to his hole, Herman is all the way in.

 

"Entity! I swear you're going to literally be the death of me!"

 

He pounds his fist and grits his teeth when Herman begins moving furiously against him, the desk shakes with each thrust of his hips. Evan can feel his blood rolling down his inner thighs, a deep moan as he begins to move his own hips in tandem with Herman's movements.

 

"You're going to have to try harder then that, Herman!"

 

Hands wrap tightly around his throat when Herman increases the pace, his hips slamming into Evan's legs, the hold on his throat tightens when the Doctor's breathing grows heavy. It felt as if the desk was going to fall apart with the way Herman was having his way, small grunts from the man behind him soon fill the air. Both hands find their way to Evan's thick hips, the nails digging into the skin, likely drawing blood. Still moving against the desk, Evan lifts his abdomen up and wraps a hand around himself, letting another series of moans. The abuse on his ass is going to be felt for awhile, his hand slowly pumping himself as Herman moves away.

 

"Don't touch yourself. That's not part of your treatment."

 

Ignoring him, Evan increases his pace but a hand scratches him, causing him to let out a hiss.

 

"Hey, asshole! Doctors orders!"

 

Cursing under his breath, he waves a hand dismissively at Herman, assuming his previous position on the desk. Laughter makes his ears ring when Herman returns to him, his hands grabbing ahold of the metal over Evan's shoulder. Small droplets of crimson emerge from the new wounds and old scars, a hand slams Evan's head onto the desk. Every so often, Evan moves slightly against the cold metal, the friction against him feels more then euphoric. His own hips slowly brushing against the object, Herman catches on when Evan lets out a series of deep moans. Halting in his tracks, Herman punches Evan in the shoulder, blood covering his knuckles when he pushes away from the other.

 

"Stand up. Now."

 

His voice takes on an insidious tone, Evan obliges and immediately looks away in shame and guilt. A mess had been left behind and Evan drops his head to the floor, like a child who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

 

"Hey, who said you could come first? Big brute can't even let me finish inside before he does."

 

Collapsing back onto the desk, his chest hitting the metal as he lays there, spent and satisfied. Returning to his place, Herman once again makes his way inside Evan, moving madly with vigor. It doesn't take long for him to release either, hips stilling as he rips the metallic pieces from the corners of his mouth to let out groans here and there. The foreign sensation of Herman fills him, he can feel it join his blood when it seeps out and down his thighs. Going to move, two blood caked hands push him down as the doctor makes his way over to Evan, positioning himself above his face as he strokes himself.

 

Warm fluid covers his cheeks and forehead, Herman’s moans surround the two as he spends himself, Evan groans in complete disgust and shoves Herman away. On the other hand, Herman just laughs like the madman he is and wipes his own blood across his chest.

 

"Don't you ever do that to me again!"

 

Roaring out in Herman's face, the veins along his neck and forehead bulge when Evan raises his voice again.

 

"I'm no one’s submissive! I'm naturally dominant and above all... I'm out of here! Have Sally be your replacement because it sure as hell won't be me, Carter!"

 

Scooping up his items of clothing and jogging on out of the office, Evan grunts as he slams the door shut. Leaving Herman alone and laughing as he cleans up and redresses, the papers still scattered around the linoleum when he speaks aloud to himself.

 

 

 

_"I just might..."_


	22. One Texas-sized Barbecue - The Hillbilly X Bubba | The Cannibal -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain killers sit down and eat while enjoying their time together, while certain others also argue amongst themselves...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update!

"Will you just get over here already?"

 

Evan huffs, not used to speaking to the others, shoulders heaving as he carries a plate of patties over to Bubba. Bubba - who had been cooking for a total of two minutes, gave a sound of approval.

 

"Where are the rest of the buns?"

 

Lisa shouted over her shoulder, she'd been piling numerous burgers over a rusted, silver platter. Her bony fingers just barely grasping the thing as she sets it down on a run down, rotting picnic table. The Entity had rewarded a select number of killers with a barbecue of sorts. Bubba was chosen as the chef, Evan the (obvious) reluctant assistant, Lisa was the table setter, and the Hillbilly was chosen to be 'food enhancer' - whatever that meant. If she had to guess, it must've been someone who taste tests the food before serving it to others. Even if eating an entire burger and not just one required bite meant that the job wasn't being done right. Max had been sitting at the table for some time now, an empty plate with crumbs sat down in front of him. Herman Carter saunters over, giggling as he takes his seat on the far side of him, Sally soon taking her side next to Evan. Evan had groaned and rested a hand under his chin, cupping it and glancing over at the woman who sat beside him often. His cheeks quickly turn an embarrassing crimson, thankful that the mask hides it. A jab to the shoulder makes him look to his other side. A devilish grin, brown fedora, burnt skin beyond recognition, and a homemade weapon of knives splayed out in front of his face.

 

"You planning on banging the bitch, or what?"

 

A cackle, the shuffling of two males stand to their feet, rising above Freddy, their breathing heavy and height intimidating. Herman doesn't say anything but Evan speaks up, his voice low and menacing as he slightly bends over the smaller man.

 

"You will show respect to our nurse, or I will make your pathetic excuse of a life excruciating while you're here."

 

There was no need for an "Understood?" because Freddy continued laughing but barely said anything else about the matter. Although the suggestive gestures he was sending towards Sally made Herman and Evan tense up. Herman stands again, the clamps usually attached to his mouth had been removed, huge sparks of electricity dance across his hands.

 

"A new test subject?"

 

Freddy jumps up, glaring at the male, his glove raised.

 

"I'd like to see you try, bitch."

 

A manic grin crosses Herman's features, a giggle, he retakes his seat, giggling into his hand every few seconds. Max takes a bite out of another burger, giving a thumbs up and nod of approval.

 

"Perfect!"

 

Evan cries out, a smile showing, a hand readjusts his mask. Bubba finishes up grilling, condiments seem to appear out of nowhere in the centre of the picnic table. Herman takes a napkin and leans over Sally, tucking it under each side of her leg, giving her a kiss on the cheek. The Doctor takes a seat beside Sally, tucking another napkin beneath his shirt, carefully readjusting his tie.

 

"Lets eat!"

 

Lisa promptly grabs a plate and napkin, Bubba walks over with a platter of burgers, all well done. It doesn't take long for everyone to dig in, each killer taking their own time to devour and savor the delicious meal all at once, some taking longer then others.

 

"It's fantastic meat! I'm trying to pinpoint what type it is though, it has a sort of... robust flavor to it."

 

"It's human meat, you dumbass." Freddy pipes up, taking a huge bite out of his burger and sighing.

 

"Besides, it's not all that interesting."

 

Evan, who rolls his eyes behind the mask, sighs heavily and dabs his napkin over his fingers. Oddly enough, there are no beverages to be found, no one seems to complain about it though.

 

Eventually, everyone finishes their meals. Each killer compliments the chef and 'co-chef' for their work, once Bubba and Max are done eating, they sit beside each other on a log, promptly cleaning their chainsaws. Lisa and Evan take seats along an opposite log, Freddy giving the two a wink and wicked grin when he passes by them. Herman and Sally make their way over to the small group, Sally's form hunched over once she takes a seat on a log in the centre, Herman sitting beside her.

 

"We should do this again sometime, you know."

 

"I agree."

 

"Mmm-hmm."

 

"That was spectacular cooking from the both of you!"

 

Both Max and Bubba lift their heads up, giving a thumbs up and nodding in appreciation.

 

"When will the Entity let us do this again?"

 

Evan speaks up, resting a hand over his beefy leg.

 

"Never. We're not special and we've survivors to sacrifice."

 

"We know what our job description entails, Evan."

 

"Keep your mouth shut, Herman!"

 

"Do something about it, Philip!"

 

"All of you be quiet. Just sit there and think about your next trial."

 

Lisa was right, arguing with each other would get them nowhere. At least they had a good time, eating was so foreign to most of them that they had thought it was a trick. A trick from the Entity didn't seem too far fetched, in fact, it usually tormented them with memories and thoughts of their past lives.

 

_It was a good thing that they had taken the time they had to spend it together. Save for Freddy, who wandered deeply into the black of the forest before him..._


End file.
